Pride and Prejudice
by Channylover08
Summary: "I have fought against judgment, my family's expectation, the inferiority of your birth, my rank. All this circumstances I will put them aside and ask you to end my agony"said he."I don't understand"Sonny said;"I love you"Chad quietly said"Most ardently"
1. First Impressions

**This more than a story is an adaptation, I'm a fan of Jane Austen and this is one of my favorite books I hope you like it**

**Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice"**

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**PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

Chapter 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.

However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighborhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

"My dear Mr. Bennet," said his lady to him one day, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"

Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.

"But it is," returned she; "for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it."

Mr. Bennet made no answer.

"Do you not want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife impatiently.

"You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it."

This was invitation enough.

"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week."

"What is his name?"

"Harris."

"Is he married or single?"

"Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!"

"How so? How can it affect them?"

"My dear Mr. Bennet," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them."

"Is that his design in settling here?"

"Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes."

"I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Harris may like you the best of the party."

"My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have had my share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown-up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty."

"In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of."

"But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Harris when he comes into the neighborhood."

"It is more than I engage for, I assure you."

"But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know, they visit no newcomers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him if you do not."

"You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Harris will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my little Sonny."

"I desire you will do no such thing. Sonny is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half as handsome as Tawni, nor half as good-humored as Portlyn. But you are always giving her the preference."

"They have none of them much to recommend them," replied he; "they are all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Sonny has something more of quickness than her sisters."

"Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves."

"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least."

"Ah, you do not know what I suffer."

"But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four thousand a year comes into the neighborhood."

"It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not visit them."

"Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them all."

Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humor, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news.

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Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Harris. He had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his wife that he should not go; and till the evening after the visit was paid she had no knowledge of it. It was then disclosed in the following manner. Observing his second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he suddenly addressed her with:

"I hope Mr. Harris will like it, Sonny."

"We are not in a way to know what Mr. Harris likes," said her mother resentfully, "since we are not to visit."

"But you forget, mamma," said Sonny, "that we shall meet him at the assemblies, and that Mrs. Long promised to introduce him."

"I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion of her."

"No more have I," said Mr. Bennet; "and I am glad to find that you do not depend on her serving you."

Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply, but, unable to contain herself, began scolding one of her daughters.

"Don't keep coughing so, Lucy, for Heaven's sake! Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces."

"Lucy has no discretion in her coughs," said her father; "she times them ill."

"I do not cough for my own amusement," replied Lucy fretfully. "When is your next ball to be, Sonny?"

"Tomorrow fortnight."

"Aye, so it is," cried her mother, "and Mrs. Long does not come back till the day before; so it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for she will not know him herself."

"Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce Mr. Harris to her."

"Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him myself; how can you be so teasing?"

"I honor your circumspection. A fortnight's acquaintance is certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a fortnight. But if we do not venture somebody else will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her daughters must stand their chance; and, therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I will take it on myself."

The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, "Nonsense, nonsense!"

"What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?" cried he. "Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you there. What say you, Zora? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read great books and make extracts."

Zora wished to say something sensible, but knew not how.

"While Zora is adjusting her ideas," he continued, "let us return to Mr. Harris."

"I am sick of Mr. Harris," cried his wife.

"I am sorry to hear that; but why did not you tell me that before? If I had known as much this morning I certainly would not have called on him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now."

The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished; that of Mrs. Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though, when the first tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the while.

"How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! and it is such a good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning and never said a word about it till now."

"Now, Lucy, you may cough as much as you choose," said Mr. Bennet; and, as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.

"What an excellent father you have, girls!" said she, when the door was shut. "I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness; or me, either, for that matter. At our time of life it is not so pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day; but for your sakes, we would do anything. Portlyn, my love, though you are the youngest, I dare say Mr. Harris will dance with you at the next ball."

"Oh!" said Portlyn stoutly, "I am not afraid; for though I am the youngest, I'm the tallest."

The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would return Mr. Bennet's visit, and determining when they should ask him to dinner.

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Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Harris. They attacked him in various ways with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all, and they were at last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbor, Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favorable. Sir William had been delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr. Harris's heart were entertained.

"If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield," said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, "and all the others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for."

In a few days Mr. Harris returned Mr. Bennet's visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard much; but he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining from an upper window that he wore a blue coat, and rode a black horse.

An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and already had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Harris was obliged to be in town the following day, and, consequently, unable to accept the honor of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that he might be always flying about from one place to another, and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears a little by starting the idea of his being gone to London only to get a large party for the ball; and a report soon followed that Mr. Harris was to bring four ladies and one gentleman with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a number of ladies, but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing, that instead of four he brought only two with him from London his half sister and cousin. And when the party entered the assembly room it consisted of only three altogether Mr. Harris, his half sister and another young man.

Mr. Harris was good-looking and gentleman like; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sister was fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His friend Mr. Cooper soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and the report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Harris, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud; to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend.

Mr. Harris had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal people in the room; he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance, was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield. Such amiable qualities must speak for themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend!, Mr. Cooper danced only once with Miss Harris, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of his general behavior was sharpened into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her daughters.

Sonny Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Cooper had been standing near enough for her to hear a conversation between him and Mr. Harris, who came from the dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to join it.

"Come, Chad," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."

"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your sister is engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to

stand up with."

"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Nico, "for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty."

"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," said Mr. Cooper, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

"Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you."

"Which do you mean?" and turning round he looked for a moment at Sonny, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

Nico followed his advice. Chad walked off; and Sonny remained with no very cordial feelings toward him. She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.

The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs. Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield party. Mr. Harris had danced with her twice, and she had been distinguished by his sisters. Tawni was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in a quieter way. Sonny felt Tawni's pleasure. Zora had heard herself mentioned to Miss Harris as the most accomplished girl in the neighborhood; and Catherine and Portlyn had been fortunate enough never to be without partners, which was all that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned, therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet still up. With a book he was regardless of time; and on the present occasion he had a good deal of curiosity as to the events of an evening which had raised such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that his wife's views on the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon found out that he had a different story to hear.

"Oh! my dear Mr. Bennet," as she entered the room, "we have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. Tawni was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well she looked; and Mr. Harris thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice! Only think of that, my dear; he actually danced with her twice! and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand up with her! But, however, he did not admire her at all; indeed, nobody can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Tawni as she was going down the dance. So he inquired who she was, and got introduced, and asked her for the two next. Then the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Tawni again, and the two sixth with Sonny, and the Boulanger"

"If he had had any compassion for me," cried her husband impatiently, "he would not have danced half so much! For God's sake, say no more of his partners. O that he had sprained his ankle in the first dance!"

"Oh! my dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome! And his sister is charming women. I never in my life saw anything more elegant than her dress. I dare say the lace upon Mrs. Harris gown-"

Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against any description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek another branch of the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Cooper.

"But I can assure you," she added, "that Sonny does not lose much by not suiting his fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my

dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man."

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When Tawni and Sonny were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. Harris before, expressed to her sister just how very much she admired him.

"He is just what a young man ought to be," said she, "sensible, good-humored, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!-so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!"

"He is also handsome," replied Sonny, "which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete."

"I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment."

"Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take you by surprise and me never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person."

"Dear Sonny!"

"Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in your life."

"I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak what I think."

"I know you do; and it is that which makes the wonder. With your good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others! Affectation of candor is common enough-one meets with it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design-to take the good of everybody's character and make it still better, and say nothing of the bad-belongs to you alone. And so you like this man's sister, too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his."

"Certainly not-at first. But she is very pleasing women when you converse with them. Miss Harris is to live with her brother, and keep his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming neighbor in her."

Sonny listened in silence, but was not convinced; their behavior at the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and with a judgment too unassailed by any attention to herself, she was very little disposed to approve them. She was in fact very fine lady; not deficient in good humor when they were pleased, not in the power of making herself agreeable when she chose it, but proud and conceited. She was rather handsome, had been educated in one of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more than she ought, and of associating with people of rank, and were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of herself, and meanly of others. She was of a respectable family in the north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their memories than that their brother's fortune and their own had been acquired by trade.

Mr. Harris inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. Mr. Harris intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county; but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to purchase.

His sister was anxious for his having an estate of his own; but, though he was now only established as a tenant, Miss Harris was by no means unwilling to preside at his table-. Mr. Harris had not been of age two years, when he was tempted by an accidental recommendation to look at Netherfield House. He did look at it, and into it for half-an-hour-was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.

Between him and Cooper there was a very steady friendship, in spite of great opposition of character. Harris was endeared to Cooper by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Cooper's regard, Harris had the firmest reliance, and of his judgment the highest opinion. In understanding, Chad was the superior. Nico was by no means deficient, but Chad was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Nico was sure of being liked wherever he appeared, Chad was continually giving offense.

The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently characteristic. Nico had never met with more pleasant people or prettier girls in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive to him; there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and, as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful. Chad, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty, but she smiled too much.

Penelope allowed it to be so-but still she admired her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one whom they would not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorized by such commendation to think of her as he chose.

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**I was watching the movie yesterday and I thought to do this adaptation, i know they are a little OOC but maybe this will work.**

**Sorry for any mistakes I'm Mexican and this isn't ****my ****native**** lenguage**

**Happy weekend**


	2. Something is changing

**Thanks for the reviews and alerts, I will try to update daily ...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice"**

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PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

Chapter 2

Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the honor of knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty. The distinction had perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given him a disgust to his business, and to his residence in a small market town; and, in quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge, where he could think with pleasure of his own importance, and, unshackled by business, occupy himself solely in being civil to all the world. For, though elated by his rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he was all attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive, friendly, and obliging, his presentation at St. James's had made him courteous.

Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to be a valuable neighbor to Mrs. Bennet. They had a daughter a sensible, intelligent young woman, about twenty-five, was Sonny's intimate friend.

That Miss Lucas and the Miss Bennet's should meet to talk over a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morning after the assembly brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to communicate.

"You began the evening well, Mel," said Mrs. Bennet with civil self-command to Miss Lucas. "You were Mr. Harris's first choice."

"Yes; but he seemed to like his second better."

"Oh! you mean Tawni, I suppose, because he danced with her twice. To be sure that did seem as if he admired her-indeed I rather believe he did-I heard something about it-but I hardly know what-something about Mr. Robinson."

"Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson; did not I mention it to you? Mr. Robinson's asking him how he liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there were a great many pretty women in the room, and which he thought the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last question: 'Oh! the eldest Miss Bennet, beyond a doubt; there cannot be two opinions on that point.'"

"Upon my word! Well, that is very decided indeed-that does seem as if-but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know."

"My overhearing were more to the purpose than yours, Sonny," said Mel. "Mr. Cooper is not so well worth listening to as his friend, is he?-poor Sonny!-to be only just tolerable."

"I beg you would not put it into Sonny's head to be vexed by his ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man, that it would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he sat close to her for half-an-hour without once opening his lips."

"Are you quite sure, ma'am?-is not there a little mistake?" said Tawni. "I certainly saw Mr. Cooper speaking to her."

"Because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; but she said he seemed quite angry at being spoke to."

"Miss Harris told me," said Tawni, "that he never speaks much, unless among his intimate acquaintances. With them he is remarkably agreeable."

"I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had come to the ball in a hack chaise."

"I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long," said Miss Lucas, "but I wish he had danced with Sonny."

"Another time, Sonny," said her mother, "I would not dance with him, if I were you."

"I believe, ma'am, I may safely promise you never to dance with him."

"His pride," said Miss Lucas, "does not offend me so much as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favor, should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a right to be proud."

"That is very true," replied Sonny, "and I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine."

"Pride," observed Zora, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, "is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us."

"If I were as rich as Mr. Cooper," cried Portlyn, "I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine a day."

"Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought," said Mrs. Bennet; "and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle directly."

The girl protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit.

* * *

The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit was soon returned in due form. Miss Bennet's pleasing manners grew on the goodwill of Miss Penelope; and though the mother was found to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of being better acquainted with them was expressed towards the two eldest. By Tawni, this attention was received with the greatest pleasure, but Sonny still saw superciliousness in her treatment of everybody, hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them; though her kindness to Tawni, such as it was, had a value as arising in all probability from the influence of their brother's admiration. It was generally evident whenever they met, that he did admire her and to her it was equally evident that Tawni was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Tawni united, with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas.

"It may perhaps be pleasant," replied Mel, "to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely-a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten a women had better show more affection than she feels. Mr. Harris likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on."

"But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton, indeed, not to discover it too."

"Remember, Sonny, that he does not know Tawni's disposition as you do."

"But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavor to conceal it, he must find it out."

"Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But, though Harris and Tawni meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and, as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. Tawni should therefore make the most of every half-hour in which she can command his attention. When she is secure of him, there will be more leisure for falling in love as much as she chooses."

"Your plan is a good one," replied Sonny, "where nothing is in question but the desire of being well married, and if I were determined to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But these are not Tawni's feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet,

she cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard nor of its reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house, and has since dined with him in company four times. This is not quite enough to make her understand his character."

"Not as you represent it. Had she merely dined with him, she might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must remember that four evenings have also been spent together-and four evenings may do a great deal."

"Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both like Vingt-un better than Commerce; but with respect to any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded."

"Well," said Mel, "I wish Tawni success with all my heart; and if she were married to him tomorrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life."

"You make me laugh, Mel; but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself." Sonny said

Occupied in observing Mr. Harris's attentions to her sister, Sonny was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Cooper had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no

sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her brown eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware; to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with.

He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas's, where a large party were assembled.

"What does Mr. Cooper mean," said she to Mel, "by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?"

"That is a question which Mr. Cooper only can answer."

"But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him."

On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such a subject to him; which immediately provoking Sonny to do it, she turned to him and said:

"Did you not think, Mr. Cooper, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"

"With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady energetic."

"You are severe on us."

"It will be her turn soon to be teased," said Mel. "I am going to open the instrument, Sonny, and you know what follows."

"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!-always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers." On Mel's persevering, however, she added, "Very well, if it must be so, it must." And gravely glancing at Mr. Cooper, "There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with: 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge'; and I shall keep mine to swell my song."

Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Zora, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display.

Zora had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. Sonny, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Zora, at the

end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with two officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.

Chad stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by his thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas was his neighbor, till Sir William thus began:

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Cooper! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished society."

"Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance."

Sir William only smiled. "Your friend performs delightfully," he continued after a pause, on seeing Nico join the group; "and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Cooper."

"You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir."

"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?"

"Never, sir."

"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?"

"It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it."

"You have a house in town, I conclude?"

Chad bowed.

"I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself-for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas."

He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not disposed to make any; and Sonny at that instant moving towards them, he was struck with the action of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to her:

"My dear Miss Sonny, why are you not dancing? Mr. Cooper, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when so much beauty is before you." And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Chad who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William:

"Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner."

Chad, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honor of her hand, but in vain. Sonny was determined; nor did Sir William at all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.

"You excel so much in the dance, Miss Sonny, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half-hour."

"Mr. Cooper is all politeness," said Sonny, smiling.

"He is, indeed; but, considering the inducement, my dear Miss Sonny, we cannot wonder at his complaisance-for who would object to such a partner?"

Sonny looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Harris:

"I can guess the subject of your reverie."

"I should imagine not."

"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise, the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!"

"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."

Penelope immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Chad replied with great intrepidity:

"Miss Sonny Bennet."

"Miss Sonny Bennet!" repeated Miss Harris. "I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favorite? and pray, when am I to wish you joy?"

"That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy."

"No, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you."

He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.

* * *

**There you go the second chapter, I hope you enjoyed...**

**Happy Saturday...**


	3. Illness

**Again thanks for the alerts and reviews...**

**Lelia Selene Oria.- I know right, when i was watching the movie last week i could picture sonny and chad's relationship perfectly...**

**Hermonie at heart 94.- Yes i have all the help from the book and the beautiful adaptation directed by Joe Wright (i love that movie, Matthew Macfadyen and Keira Knightly are awesome)...**

**DannySamLover20.- Thanks, i hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice"**

* * *

**PRIDE AND PREJUDICE**

**Chapter 3**

Mrs. Bennet's had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerk to their father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in London in a respectable line of trade.

The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt and to a milliner's shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family, Lucy and Portlyn, were particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were more vacant than their sisters', and when nothing better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and furnish conversation for the evening.

Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the most interesting intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the officers' names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Phillips visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a store of felicity unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. Harris's large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of an ensign.

After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. Bennet coolly observed:

"From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced."

Lucy was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Portlyn, with perfect indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the next morning to London.

"I am astonished, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet, "that you should be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly of anybody's children, it should not be of my own, however."

"If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it."

"Yes but as it happens, they are all of them very clever."

"This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish."

"My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do."

Mrs. Bennet was distracted by the entrance of the footman with a note for Miss Tawni; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while her daughter read.

"Well, Tawni, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Tawni, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love."

"It is from Miss Harris," said Tawni, and then read it aloud.

"MY DEAR FRIEND,-

"If you are not so compassionate as to dine today with me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day's tete-a-tete alone. Come as soon as you can on receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.-Yours ever,

"PENELOPE HARRIS"

"Can I have the carriage?" said Tawni.

"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night."

"I had much rather go in the coach."

"But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?"

"They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them."

She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses were engaged. Tawni was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered; Tawni had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission; Tawni certainly could not come back.

"This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!" said Mrs. Bennet more than once.

"Good grief, woman, your skill in the art of matchmaking are positively occult" Mr. Bennet said

"Though I don't think, Mama, you can take credit for making it rain" Sonny added

The next morning breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Sonny:

"MY DEAREST SONNY,-

"I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me and, excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me. Yours, etc."

"Well, my dear," said Mr. Bennet, when Sonny had read the note aloud, "if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Harris, and under your orders."

"People do not die of little trifling colds."Mrs. Bennet replied

"But she may perish with the shame of having such a mother" Sonny cried "I must go to Netherfield at once"

Sonny walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.

She was shown into the breakfast-parlor, where all but Tawni were assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise. That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Miss Harris; and Sonny was convinced that they held her in contempt for it. She was received, however, very politely by her; and in their brother's manners there was something better than politeness; there was good humor and kindness. Mr. Cooper said very little. The former was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone.

Miss Tawni had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well enough to leave her room. Sonny was glad to be taken to her immediately; and Tawni, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience from expressing in her note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. Sonny silently attended her.

When the clock struck three, Sonny felt that she must go, and very unwillingly said so. Miss Harris offered her the carriage, and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Tawni testified such concern in parting with her, that Miss Harris was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Sonny most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply of clothes.

* * *

At half-past six Sonny was summoned to dinner. To the civil inquiries which then poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Harris's, she could not make a very favorable answer.

When dinner was over, she returned directly to Tawni, and Miss Harris began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no beauty. "She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild."

" I thought Miss Sonny Bennet looked remarkably well when she came into the room this morning. " said Nico

"You observed it, Mr. Cooper, I am sure," said Penelope; "and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition."

"Certainly not."

"I am afraid, Mr. Cooper," observed Penelope in a half whisper, "that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes."

"Not at all," Chad replied; "they were brightened by the exercise."

"I have an excessive regard for Miss Tawni Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it."

"That would not make them less agreeable." Nico cried.

"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," replied Chad

To this speech Nico made no answer; but his sister gave it her hearty assent, and indulged her mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend's vulgar relations.

Tawni falls asleep and Sonny thought she should go downstairs herself. On entering the drawing-room. Sonny walked towards the table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her others all that his library afforded.

"And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever looked into."

Sonny assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in the room.

"I am astonished," said Miss Harris, "that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Cooper!"

"It ought to be good," Chad replied, "it has been the work of many generations"

"Nico, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley."

"I wish it may."

"But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighborhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire."

"With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Chad will sell it."

"I am talking of possibilities, Nico."

"Upon my word, Penelope, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation."

* * *

"You write uncommonly fast." Penelope cried

"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly." Chad said

"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!"

"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours."

"Tell your sister that I long to see her."

"I have already told her so once, by your desire."

"I do dote on her, I was quite in raptures at her beautiful desing for a table"

"Perhaps you will give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At present I have not room to do them justice."

"It is amazing to me," said Harris, "how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are."

"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Nico, what do you mean?"

"Yes, you all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished."

"Your list of the common extent of accomplishments," said Chad, "has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished."

"Not I, I am sure," said Miss Harris.

"Then," observed Sonny, "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman."

"Yes, I do." Chad replied

"Oh! certainly," cried Penelope, "She must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and something in her air and manner of walking."

"And she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading." added Chad

Angry closing her book Sonny replied "I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."

"Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?"

"I never saw such a woman. She would certainly be a fearsome thing to behold."

Turning to Sonny, Penelope said "Miss Sonny let us take a turn about the room"

Sonny was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Harris succeeded no less in the real object of her civility; Mr. Cooper looked up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as Sonny herself could be, and unconsciously let his letter.

With a smirk in her face Penelope said "Will you not join us, Mr Cooper?"

"You can only have two motives, Penelope and I would interfere with either"

"What can he mean?"

"The surest way to disappoint him would be to ask him nothing."

"Do tell us, Mr. Cooper"

"Either you are in each other's confidence and you have secret affairs to discuss, or you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage by walking." A short pause followed "If the first, I should get in your way, if the second, I can admire you much better from here."

"Oh!, Shocking" cried Miss Harris; "How shall we punish him for such a speech?"

"Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination," said Sonny. "We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him, laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done."

"No, Mr Cooper is not to be teased"

"Are you too proud, Mr. Cooper? And would you consider pride a fault or a virtue?" Sonny said looking at him

"I could not say"

"We are trying our best to find a fault in you"

"I find hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offences against me. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever."

"Oh, dear. I cannot tease you about that. What a shame for I dearly love to laugh."

"A family trait I think." Miss Harris cried out

As all conversation was thereby at an end, Sonny soon afterwards left the room.

* * *

Sonny passed the chief of the night in her sister's room, and in the morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the inquiries which she very early received from Mr. Harris by a housemaid, and some time afterwards from the elegant lady who waited on his sister. In spite of this amendment, however, she requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Tawni, and form her own judgement of her situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast.

Had she found Tawni in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She would not listen, therefore, to her daughter's proposal of being carried home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Tawni, on Miss Harris's appearance and invitation, the mother and three daughters all attended her into the breakfast parlor. Harris met them with hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected.

"Indeed I have, sir," was her answer. "She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."

"Removed!" cried Harris. "It must not be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal."

"You may depend upon it, Madam," said Miss Harris, with cold civility, "that Miss Bennet will receive every possible attention while she remains with us."

Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.

"I am sure," she added, "if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest

temper I have ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to her. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Harris, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease."

"Whatever I do is done in a hurry," replied he; "and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here."

"That is exactly what I should have supposed of you," said Sonny.

"You begin to comprehend me, do you?" cried he, turning towards her.

"Oh! Yes I understand you perfectly."

"I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful."

"That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours."

"Sonny," cried her mother, "remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home."

"I did not know before," continued Nico immediately, "that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study."

"Yes, but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage."

"The country," said Chad, "can in general supply but a few subjects for such a study. In a country neighborhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society."

"But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever."

"Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighborhood. "I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town."

Everybody was surprised, and Chad, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph.

"I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Harris?"

"When I am in the country," he replied, "I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either."

"That is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman," looking at Chad, "seemed to think the country was nothing at all."

"Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken," said Sonny, blushing for her mother. "You quite mistook Mr. Cooper. He only meant that there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in the town, which you must acknowledge to be true."

"Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighborhood, I believe there are few neighborhoods larger. I know we dine with four and twenty families."

Nothing but concern for Sonny could enable Nico to keep his countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eyes towards Mr. Cooper with a very expressive smile. Sonny, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother's thoughts, now asked her if Mel Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away.

"Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Harris, is not he? So much the man of fashion! So genteel and easy! He had always something to say to everybody. That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very

important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter."

"Did Mel dine with you?"

"No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince pies. For my part, Mr. Harris, I always keep servants that can do their own work; my daughters are brought up very differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the Lucas is a very good sort of girl,

I assure you. It is a pity she is not handsome! Not that I think Mel so very plain but then she is our particular friend."

"She seems a very pleasant young woman."

"Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Tawni's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Tawni one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own

partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a man at my brother Gardiner's in town so much in love with her that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were."

"And so ended his affection," said Sonny impatiently. "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!"

"I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love," said Chad.

"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away."

Chad only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made Sonny tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Harris for his kindness to Tawni, with an apology for troubling him also with Sonny. Mr. Harris was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to each other during the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest should tax Mr. Harris with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.

Portlyn was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion and good-humored countenance; a favorite with her mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attention of the officers, to whom her uncle's good dinners, and her own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Harris on the subject of the ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother's ear:

"I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when she is ill."

Portlyn declared herself satisfied. "Oh! yes-it would be much better to wait till Tawni was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given your ball," she added, "I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not."

"I think a ball it is an irrational way to gain new acquaintance. It would be better if conversation not dancing, were the order of the day" said Zora

"Indeed, much more rational, but rather less like a ball" Penelope replied

Zora made no answer, and soon afterwards Mrs. Bennet and her daughters departed, and Sonny returned instantly to Tawni, leaving her own and her relations' behavior to the remarks of the lady and Mr. Cooper; the latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of her, in spite of all Miss Harris's witticisms on fine eyes.

* * *

The day passed much as the day before had done. Miss Harris had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Sonny joined their party in the drawing-room.

Chad applied to Miss Harris and Sonny for an indulgence of some music. Miss Harris moved with some alacrity to the pianoforte; and, after a polite request that Sonny would lead the way which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she seated herself.

Penelope sang and while she was thus employed, Sonny could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Cooper's eyes were fixed on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great a man; and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her, was still more strange. She could only imagine, however, at last that she drew his notice because there was something more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked him too little to care for his approbation.

After playing some Italian songs, Miss Harris varied the charm by a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Cooper, drawing near Sonny, said to her:

"Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?"

She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some surprise at her silence.

"Oh!" said she, "I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say 'Yes,' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all and now despise me if you dare."

"Indeed I do not dare."

Sonny, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Chad had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really

believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger.

Miss Harris saw, or suspected enough to be jealous; and her great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Tawni received some assistance from her desire of getting rid of Sonny.

She often tried to provoke Chad into disliking her guest, by talking of their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.

"I hope," said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the next day, "you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after

officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavor to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses."

"Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?"

"Oh! yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Phillips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Sonny's picture, you must not have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?"

"It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their color and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied."

* * *

Sonny wrote the next morning to their mother, to beg that the carriage might be sent for them in the course of the day. But Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on her daughters remaining at Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which would exactly finish Tawni's week, could not bring herself to receive them with pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at least not to Sonny's wishes, for she was impatient to get home. Mrs. Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly have the carriage before Tuesday; and in her postscript it was added, that if Mr. Harris and his sister pressed them to stay longer, she could spare them very well. Against staying longer, however, Sonny was positively resolved nor did she much expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the contrary, as being considered as intruding themselves needlessly long, she urged Tawni to borrow Mr. Harris's carriage immediately, and at length it was settled that their original design of leaving Netherfield that morning should be mentioned, and the request made.

The communication excited many professions of concern; and enough was said of wishing them to stay at least till the following day to work on Tawni; and till the morrow their going was deferred. Miss Harris was then sorry that she had proposed the delay, for her jealousy and dislike of one sister much exceeded her affection for the other.

The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were to go so soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be safe for her that she was not enough recovered; but Tawni was firm where she felt herself to be right.

To Mr. Cooper it was welcome intelligence Sonny had been at Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked and Miss Harris was uncivil to her, and more teasing than usual to himself. He wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should now escape him, nothing that could elevate her with the hope of influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had been suggested, his behavior during the last day must have material weight in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke ten words to her through the whole of Saturday, and though they were at one time left by themselves for half-an-hour, he adhered most conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at her.

On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost all, took place. Miss Harris's civility to Sonny increased at last very rapidly, as well as her affection for Tawni; and when they parted, after assuring the latter of the pleasure it would always give her to see her either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most tenderly, she even shook hands with the former. Sonny took leave of the whole party in the liveliest of spirits.

They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs. Bennet wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so much trouble, and was sure Tawni would have caught cold again. But their father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation, and almost all its sense by the absence of Tawni andSonny.

They found Zora, as usual, deep in the study of thorough-bass and human nature; and had some extracts to admire, and some new observations of threadbare morality to listen to. Lucy and Portlyn had information for them of a different sort. Much had been done and much had been said in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers had dined lately with their uncle, a private had been flogged, and it had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married.

* * *

**Sorry i couldn't update earlier.**


	4. The Visitor

**Hello today I don't feel very well, I had a fight with my best friend, every year is the same in January, she doesn't like this month because it's her birthday, this morning we fought about the same thing, she always says I don't care about her which isn't true, but at this point I don't know what to do, I ****try to understand why she acts like this but sometimes I don't get it, she is the only person who can make me feel like I'm nothing with just one word… Like today I'm feeling like I'm not worth it, I know this friendship is very harmful, but I really appreciate her, what can I do?, I should end our friendship? And take different ways or stand by her side... I'm confused =(… **

**Ok stop talking about me and let's move to the story, enjoy chapter 4**

**Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice"**

**

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PRIDE AND PREJUDICE**

**Chapter 4**

"I hope, my dear," said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at breakfast, "that you have ordered a good dinner today, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party."

"Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Mel Lucas should happen to call in and I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home."

"The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger."

Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled. "A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Harris, I am sure! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Harris. But good Lord! how unlucky! There is not a bit of fish to be got today. Portlyn, my love, ring the bell I must speak to Hill this moment."

"It is not Mr. Harris," said her husband; "it is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life."

This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife and his five daughters at once.

After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus explained:

"About a month ago I received this letter; and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Mitchell, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases."

"Oh! my dear," cried his wife, "I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it."

Tawni and Sonny tried to explain to her the nature of an entail. They had often attempted to do it before, but it was a subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason, and she continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five daughters, in favor of a man whom nobody cared anything about.

"It certainly is a most iniquitous affair," said Mr. Bennet, "and nothing can clear Mr. Mitchell from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may perhaps be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself."

"No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it is very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could he not keep on quarreling with you, as his father did before him?"

"Why, indeed; he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that head, as you will hear."

"Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, 15th October.

"Dear Sir,

"The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honored father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach; but for some time I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance.'There, Mrs. Bennet.' My mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for having received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honorable Lady Claire de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavor to demean myself with grateful respect towards her ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologise for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends but of this hereafter. If you should have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, November 18th, by four o'clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday se'ennight following, which I can do without any inconvenience, as Lady Claire is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day. I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well wisher and friend,

"GRADY MITCHELL"

"At four o'clock, therefore, we may expect this peace making gentleman," said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. "He seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon my word, and I doubt not will prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Claire should be so indulgent as to let him come to us again."

"There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however, and if he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to discourage him."

"Though it is difficult," said Tawni, "to guess in what way he can mean to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his credit."

Sonny was chiefly struck by his extraordinary deference for Lady Claire, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, and burying his parishioners whenever it were required.

"He must be an oddity, I think," said she. "I cannot make him out. There is something very pompous in his style. And what can he mean by apologising for being next in the entail? We cannot suppose he would help it if he could. Could he be a sensible man, sir?"

"No, my dear, I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his letter, which promises well. I am impatient to see him."

"In point of composition," said Zora, "the letter does not seem defective. The idea of the olive branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I think it is well expressed."

To Lucy and Portlyn, neither the letter nor its writer were in any degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their cousin should come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had received pleasure from the society of a man in any other color. As for their mother, Mr. Mitchell's letter had done away much of her ill-will, and she was preparing to see him with a degree of composure which astonished her husband and daughters.

Mr. Mitchell was punctual to his time, and was received with great politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Mitchell seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, heavy-looking young man of twenty five. His air was grave and stately, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of daughters; said he had heard much of their beauty, but that in this instance fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time disposed of in marriage. This gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs. Bennet, who quarreled with no compliments, answered most readily.

"You are very kind, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may prove so, for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly."

"You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate."

"Ah! sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with _you_, for such things I know are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed."

"I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more; but, perhaps, when we are better acquainted"

He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the girls smiled on each other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Mitchell's admiration. The hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised; and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet's heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his own future property. The dinner too in its turn was highly admired; and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cooking was owing. But he was set right there by Mrs. Bennet, who assured him with some asperity that they were very well able to keep a good cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen. He begged pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared herself not at all offended; but he continued to apologise for about aquarter of an hour.

* * *

During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but when the servants were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his guest, and therefore started a subject in which he expected him to shine, by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. Lady Claire de Bourgh's attention to his wishes, and consideration for his comfort, appeared very remarkable. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen better. Mr. Mitchell was eloquent in her praise. The subject elevated him to more than usual solemnity of manner, and with a most important aspect he protested that "he had never in his life witnessed such behavior in a person of rank such affability and condescension, as he had himself experienced from Lady Claire. She had been graciously pleased to approve of both of the discourses which he had already had the honor of preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at Rosings, and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of quadrille in the evening. Lady Claire was reckoned proud by many people he knew, but he had never seen anything but affability in her. She had always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman; she made not the smallest objection to his joining in the society of the neighborhood nor to his leaving the parish occasionally for a week or two, to visit his relations. She had even condescended to advise him to marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion; and had once paid him a visit in his humble parsonage, where she had perfectly approved all the alterations he had been making, and had even vouchsafed to suggest some herself some shelves in the closet upstairs."

"That is all very proper and civil, I am sure," said Mrs. Bennet, "and I dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies in general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?"

"The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane from Rosings Park, her ladyship's residence."

"I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?"

"She has only one daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very extensive property."

"Ah!" said Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, "then she is better off than many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome?"

"She is a most charming young lady indeed. Lady Claire herself says that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the handsomest of her sex, because there is that in her features which marks the young lady of distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of a sickly constitution, which has prevented her from making that progress in many accomplishments which she could not have otherwise failed of, as I am informed by the lady who superintended her education, and who still resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends to drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies."

"Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at court."

"Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town; and by that means, as I told Lady Claire one day, has deprived the British court of its brightest ornaments. Her ladyship seemed pleased with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Claire, that her charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess, and that the most elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would be adorned by her. These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay."

"You judge very properly," said Mr. Bennet, "and it is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?"

"They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible."

Mr. Bennet's expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance, and, except in an occasional glance at Sonny, equiring no partner in his pleasure.

By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr. Bennet was glad to take his guest into the drawing-room again, and, when tea was over, glad to invite him to read aloud to the ladies. Grady readily assented, and a book was produced; but, on beholding it (for everything announced it to be from a circulating library), he started back, and begging pardon, protested that he never read novels. Lucy stared at him, and Portlyn exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some deliberation he chose Fordyce's Sermons. Portlyn gaped as he opened the volume, and before he had, with very monotonous solemnity, read three pages.

Then turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist at backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge, observing that he acted very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters apologised, and promised that it should not occur again, if he would resume his book; but Mr. Mitchell, after assuring them that he bore his young cousin no ill-will, and should never resent her behavior as any affront, seated himself at another table with Mr. Bennet, and prepared for backgammon.

* * *

Mr. Mitchell was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had been but little assisted by education or society; the greatest part of his life having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and miserly father; and though he belonged to one of the universities, he had merely kept the necessary terms, without forming at it any useful acquaintance. The subjection in which his father had brought him up had given him originally great humility of manner; but it was now a good deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, living in retirement, and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Claire de Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.

Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had a wife in view, as he meant to choose one of the daughters, if he found them as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report. This was his plan of amends of atonement for inheriting their father's estate; and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility and suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his own part.

His plan did not vary on seeing them. Miss Bennet's lovely face confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of what was due to seniority; and for the first evening she was his settled choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter of an hour's tete-a-tete with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a conversation beginning with his parsonage house, and leading naturally to the avowal of his hopes, that a mistress might be found for it at Longbourn, produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general encouragement, a caution against the very Tawni he had fixed on. "As to her younger daughters, she could not take upon her to say she could not positively answer but she did not know of any prepossession; her eldest daughter, she must just mention she felt it incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged."

Mr. Mitchell had only to change from Tawni to Sonny and it was soon done done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Sonny, equally next to Tawni in birth and beauty, succeeded her of course.

Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have two daughters married; and the man whom she could not bear to speak of the day before was now high in her good graces.

**

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What do you think about the visitor?, I know this is OOC but I could imagine Grady for this character is the funniest in P&P, it's maybe a little boring chapter too but the arrival of Grady is crucial in this story…**

**Next Chapter Tomorrow**


	5. A New Friend

**Hello how is your day?, mine reminded me of Nico and Grady, today is cloudy and rainy, we are at 37°F but feels 30°F, I live in a city with extreme weather, yesterday was 60°F and today outside it's cold... I wish i could be in my room with a cup of coco with marshmallows watching a movie, but I'm in my office in my right a cup of coffee and in my left a bunch of papers, work, work and more work...**

**Anyway enjoy chapter 5 "A New Friend"**

******Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice"**  


* * *

**PRIDE AND PREJUDICE**

**Chapter 5**

Portlyn's intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten; every sister except Zora agreed to go with her; and Grady was to attend them, at the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid of him, and have his library to himself; for thither Grady had followed him after breakfast; and there he would continue, nominally engaged with one of the largest folios in the collection, but really talking to Mr. Bennet, with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such doings discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been always sure of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told Sonny, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room of the house, he was used to be free from them there; his civility, therefore, was most prompt in inviting Grady to join his daughters in their walk; and Grady, being in fact much better fitted for a walker than a reader, was extremely pleased to close his large book, and go.

In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by him. Their eyes were immediately wandering up in the street in quest of the officers, and nothing less than a very smart bonnet indeed, or a really new muslin in a shop window, could recall them.

But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking with another officer on the other side of the way. The officer was the very Mr. Ferguson Michaels concerning whose return from London Portlyn came to inquire, and he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the stranger's air, all wondered who he could be; and Lucy and Portlyn, determined if possible to find out, led the way across the street, under pretense of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the pavement when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same spot. Mr. Michaels addressed them directly, and entreated permission to introduce his friend, Mr. Skyler DeVane, who had returned with him the day before from town, and he was happy to say had accepted a commission in their corps. This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Chad and Nico were seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the ladies of the group, the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities. Nico was the principal spokesman, and Tawni the principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on purpose to inquire after her. Chad corroborated it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Sonny, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger, and Sonny happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Skyler after a few moments, touched his hat a salutation which Chad just deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.

In another minute, Nico, but without seeming to have noticed what passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.

Ferguson and Skyler walked with the young ladies to the door of Mr. Phillip's house, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Portlyn's pressing entreaties that they should come in, and even in spite of Mrs. Phillips's throwing up the parlour window and loudly seconding the invitation.

Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her nieces; and the two eldest, from their recent absence, were particularly welcome, and she was eagerly expressing her surprise at their sudden return home, which, as their own carriage had not fetched them, she should have known nothing about, if she had not happened to see Mr. Jones's shop-boy in the street, who had told her that they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield because the Miss Bennets were come away, when her civility was claimed towards Mr. Mitchell by Tawni's introduction of him. She received him with her very best politeness, which he returned with as much more, apologising for his intrusion, without any previous acquaintance with her, which he could not help flattering himself, however, might be justified by his relationship to the young ladies who introduced him to her notice. Mrs. Phillips was quite awed by such an excess of good breeding; but her contemplation of one stranger was soon put to an end by exclamations and inquiries about the other; of whom, however, she could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that Grady had brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant's commission in the shire. She had been watching him the last hour, she said, as he walked up and down the street, and had Skyler appeared, Lucy and Portlyn would certainly have continued the occupation, but unluckily no one passed windows now except a few of the officers, who, in comparison with the stranger, were become "stupid, disagreeable fellows." Some of them were to dine with the Phillipses the next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. DeVane, and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn would come in the evening. This was agreed to, and Mrs. Phillips protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. The prospect of such delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr. Mitchell repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was assured with unwearying civility that they were perfectly needless.

As they walked home, Sonny related to Tawni what she had seen pass between the two gentlemen; but though Tawni would have defended either or both, had they appeared to be in the wrong, she could no more explain such behaviour than her sister.

* * *

As no objection was made to the young people's engagement with their aunt, and all Mr. Mitchell's scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for a single evening during his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton; and the girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing-room, that Mr. DeVane had accepted their uncle's invitation, and was then in the house.

When this information was given, and they had all taken their seats, Mr. Mitchell was at leisure to look around him and admire, and he was so much struck with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared he might almost have supposed himself in the small summer breakfast parlour at Rosings; a comparison that did not at first convey much gratification; but when Mrs. Phillips understood from him what Rosings was, and who was its proprietorwhen she had listened to the description of only one of Lady Claire's drawing-rooms, and found that the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt all the force of the compliment, and would hardly have resented a comparison with the housekeeper's room.

To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin, and who had nothing to do but to wish for an instrument, and examine their own indifferent imitations of china on the mantelpiece, the interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, however. The gentlemen did approach, and when Skyler walked into the room, Sonny felt that she had neither been seeing him before, nor thinking of him since, with the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration.

The officers of the shire were in general a very creditable, gentlemanlike set, and the best of them were of the present party; but Skylar was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, and walk, as they were superior to the broad-faced, stuffy uncle Phillips, breathing port wine, who followed them into the room.

Skylar was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was turned, and Sonny was the happy woman by whom he finally seated himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, made her feel that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker.

With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Skylar and the officers, Grady seemed to sink into insignificance; to the young ladies he certainly was nothing; but he had still at intervals a kind listener in Mrs. Phillips, and was by her watchfulness, most abundantly supplied with coffee and muffin. When the card-tables were placed, he had the opportunity of obliging her in turn, by sitting down to whist.

"I know little of the game at present," said he, "but I shall be glad to improve myself, for in my situation in life" Mrs. Phillips was very glad for his compliance, but could not wait for his reason.

Mr. DeVane did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he received at the other table between Sonny and Portlyn. At first there seemed danger of Portlyn's engrossing him entirely, for she was a most determined talker; but being likewise extremely fond of lottery tickets, she soon grew too much interested in the game, too eager in making bets and exclaiming after prizes to have attention for anyone in particular. Allowing for the common demands of the game, Skylar was therefore at leisure to talk to Sonny, and she was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Cooper. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. DeVane began the subject himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in a hesitating manner how long Mr. Cooper had been staying there.

"About a month," said Sonny; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, "He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand."

"Yes," replied Skylar; "his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy."

Sonny could not but look surprised.

"You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Cooper?"

"As much as I ever wish to be," cried Sonny very warmly. "I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable."

"I have no right to give my opinion," said Skylar, "as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else. Here you are in your own family."

"Upon my word, I say no more here than I might say in any house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. You will not find him more favourably spoken of by anyone."

"I cannot pretend to be sorry," said Skyler, after a short interruption, "that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond their deserts; but with him I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen."

"I should take him, even on my slight acquaintance, to be an ill-tempered man." Skylar only shook his head.

"I wonder," said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, "whether he is likely to be in this country much longer."

"I do not at all know; but I heard nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the shire will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood."

"Oh! no it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Cooper. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We aren't on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim before all the world, a sense of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Cooper, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with this Mr. Cooper without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father."

Sonny found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry.

Mr. DeVane began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter with gentle but very intelligible gallantry.

"It was the prospect of constant society, and good society," he added, "which was my chief inducement to enter the shire. I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Ferguson tempted me further by his account of their present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent acquaintances Meryton had procured them. Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now."

"Indeed!"

"Yes the late Mr. Cooper bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere."

"Good heavens!" cried Sonny; "but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?"

"There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Cooper chose to doubt it or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence in short anything or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me."

"This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced."

"Some time or other he will be but it shall not be by me. Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him."

Sonny honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than ever as he expressed them.

"But what," said she, after a pause, "can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?"

"A thorough, determined dislike of me a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Cooper liked me less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father's uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood the sort of preference which was often given me."

"I had not thought Mr. Cooper so bad as thisthough I have never liked him. I had not thought so very ill of him. I had supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this."

After a few minutes' reflection, however, she continued, "I do remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition must be dreadful."

"I will not trust myself on the subject," replied Skylar; "I can hardly be just to him."

Sonny was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, "To treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his father!" She could have added, "A young man, too, like you, whose very countenance may vouch for your being amiable"but she contented herself

with, "and one, too, who had probably been his companion from childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest manner!"

"We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest part of our youth was passed together; inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. My father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Phillips,

appears to do so much credit tobut he gave up everything to be of use to the late Mr. Cooper and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Cooper, a most intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Cooper often acknowledged himself to be under the greatest obligations to my father's active superintendence, and when, immediately before my father's death, Mr. Cooper gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to him, as of his affection to myself."

"How strange!" cried Sonny. "How abominable! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Cooper has not made him just to you! If from no better motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonestfor dishonesty I must call it."

"It is wonderful," replied DeVane, "for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than with any other feeling. But we are none of us consistent, and in his behaviour to me there were stronger impulses even than pride."

"Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?"

"Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and filial pridefor he is very proud of what his father washave done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also brotherly pride, which, with some brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers."

"What sort of girl is Miss Cooper?"

He shook his head. "I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Cooper. But she is too much like her brothervery, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about twenty, and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father's death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her education."

After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Sonny could not help reverting once more to the first, and saying:

"I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Harris! How can Mr. Harris, who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Harris?"

"Not at all."

"He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Cooper is."

"Probably not; but Mr. Cooper can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and perhaps agreeableallowing something for fortune and figure."

The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players gathered round the other table and Grady took his station between his cousin Sonny and Mrs. Phillips. The usual inquiries as to his success was made by the latter. It had not been very great; he had lost every point; but when Mrs. Phillips began to express her concern thereupon, he assured her with much earnest gravity that it was not of the least importance, that he considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged that she would not make herself uneasy.

"I know very well, madam," said he, "that when persons sit down to a card-table, they must take their chances of these things, and happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady Claire de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters."

Mr. DeVane's attention was caught; and after observing Mr. Mitchell for a few moments, he asked Sonny in a low voice whether her relation was very intimately acquainted with the family of de Bourgh.

"Lady Claire de Bourgh," she replied, "has very lately given him a living. I hardly know how Mr. Mitchell was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her long."

"You know of course that Lady Claire de Bourgh and Lady Ann Cooper were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Cooper."

"No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Claire's connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before yesterday."

"Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates."

This information made Sonny smile, as she thought of poor Miss Penelope. Vain indeed must be all her attentions, vain and useless her affection for his sister and her praise of himself, if he were already self-destined for another.

"Mr. Mitchell," said she, "speaks highly both of Lady Claire and her daughter; but from some particulars that he has related of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman."

"I believe her to be both in a great degree," replied Skylar; "I have not seen her for many years, but I very well remember that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from her authoritative manner, and the rest from the pride for her nephew, who chooses that everyone connected with him should have an understanding of the first class."

Sonny allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and they continued talking together, with mutual satisfaction till supper put an end to cards, and gave the rest of the ladies their share of Mr. DeVane's attentions. There could be no conversation in the noise

of Mrs. Phillips's supper party, but his manners recommended him to everybody. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done gracefully. Sonny went away with her head full of him. She could think of nothing but of Mr. DeVane, and of what he had told her, all

the way home; but there was not time for her even to mention his name as they went, for neither Portlyn nor Mr. Mitchell were once silent. Portlyn talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost and the fish she had won; and Mr. Mitchell in describing the civility of Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, protesting that he did not in the least regard his losses at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing that he crowded his cousins, had more to say than he could well manage before the carriage stopped at Longbourn House.

* * *

**Poor Skylar, Chad has been mean with him, What do you think about what he did?**

**When I was editing this chapter I was listening music and this song reminded me of Chad and Sonny is called "Again" by Daniel René (watch?v=9OEwi3ajrnM) could be Chad POV after they broke up I'm thinking of making a video with this song idk…**

**Next Chapter "The Ball"**


	6. The Ball

**Sorry I couldn't update yesterday, I had two days off from work and I left this chapter in my office, yesterday I was immersed in CMTpure's world, since early last year I'm into country music =), and when my sister came to home and saw me she said "You could marry with a Texan" and I was like "hmm What?"; "you could marry with a Texan"; "yeah I hear that, but why?"; "You're always listening country music, I could wonder why, but I know the answer"; "what?"; "Country music is about love, heartbroken and melancholic"; "Ok"; "So you could marry with a Texan"; if I were in a cartoon would have appeared a light in my head; "Yeah I could marry a Texan (u Know who I'm talking about, right), unfortunately he's 5 years and 3 days younger than me and i would be a cougar, not to mention that he lives in L.A and I in México, so it will never happen"… **

**Anyway stop my rambling and move on to the chapter 6 "The Ball"**

**Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice"**

* * *

**PRIDE AND PREJUDICE**

**Chapter 6**

Sonny related to Tawni the next day what had passed between Skylar and herself. Tawni listened with astonishment and concern; she knew not how to believe that Chad could be so unworthy of Nico's regard; and yet, it wasn't in her nature to question the veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Skylar. The possibility of his having endured such unkindness, was enough to interest all her tender feelings; and nothing remained therefore to be done, but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever couldn't be otherwise explained.

"They have both," said Tawni, "been deceived, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side."

"Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Tawni, what have you got to say on behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the business? Do clear them too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of somebody."

"Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Sonny, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr. Cooper, to be treating his father's favorite in such a manner, one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him? Oh! no."

"I can much more easily believe Mr. Harris's being imposed on, than that Mr. DeVane should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Cooper contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks."

"It is difficult indeed it is distressing. One does not know what to think."

"I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think."

But Tawni could think with certainty on only one point that Mr. Harris, if he had been imposed on, would have much to suffer when the affair became public.

The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery, where this conversation passed, by the arrival of the very persons of whom they had been speaking; Mr. Harris and his sister came to give their personal invitation for the long expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for the following Tuesday. The lady was delighted to see their dear friend again, called it an age since they had met, and repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself since their separation. To the rest of the family she paid little attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not much to Sonny, and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, rising from their seat with an activity which took their brother by surprise, and hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet's civilities.

The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as given in compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly flattered by receiving the invitation from Nico himself, instead of a ceremonious card. Tawni pictured to herself a happy evening in the society of her friend, and the attentions of her brother; and Sonny thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Skylar and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Chad's look and behavior. The happiness anticipated by Lucy and Portlyn depended less on any single event, or any particular person, for though they

each, like Sonny, meant to dance half the evening with Skylar, he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and a ball was, at any rate, a ball. And even Zora could assure her family that she had no disinclination for it.

"While I can have my mornings to myself," said Zora, "it is enough I think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody."

Sonny's spirits were so high on this occasion, that though she didn't often speak unnecessarily to Grady, she couldn't help asking him whether he intended to accept Nico's invitation, and if he did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening's amusement; and she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke either from the Archbishop, or Lady Claire de Bourgh, by venturing to dance.

"I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you," said Grady, "that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be honored with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss Sonny, for the two first dances especially, a preference which I trust my cousin Tawni will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for her."

Sonny felt herself completely taken in. She had fully proposed being engaged by Skylar for those very dances; and to have Grady instead! her liveliness had never been worse timed. There was no help for it, however. Skylar's happiness and her own were perforce delayed a little longer, and Grady's proposal accepted with as good a grace as she could. She wasn't the better pleased with his gallantry from the idea it suggested of something more. It now first struck her, that she was selected from among her sisters as worthy of being mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible visitors. The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his increasing civilities toward herself, and heard his frequent attempt at a compliment on her wit and vivacity; and though more astonished than gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it wasn't long before her mother gave her to understand that the probability of their marriage was extremely agreeable to her. Sonny, however, didn't choose to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the consequence of any reply. Grady might never make the offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.

If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk of, the younger Miss Bennets would have been in a very pitiable state at this time, for from the day of the invitation, to the day of the ball, there was such a succession of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton once. No aunt, no officers, no news could be sought after the very shoe roses for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even Sonny might have found some trial of her patience in weather which totally suspended the improvement of her acquaintance with Skylar; and nothing less than a dance on Tuesday, could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday endurable to Lucy and Portlyn.

* * *

Till Sonny entered the drawingroom at Netherfield, and looked in vain for Skylar among the cluster of red coats there assembled, a doubt of his being present had never occurred to her. The certainty of meeting him had not been checked by any of those recollections that might not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had dressed with more than usual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all that remained un subdued of his heart, trusting that it wasn't more than might be won in the course of the evening. But in an instant arose the dreadful suspicion of his being purposely omitted for Mr. Cooper's pleasure in the Harris's invitation to the officers; and though this wasn't exactly the case, the absolute fact of his absence was pronounced by his friend Ferguson, to whom Portlyn eagerly applied, and who told them that Skylar had been obliged to go to town on business the day before, and wasn't yet returned; adding, with a significant smile, "I don't imagine his business would have called him away just now, if he had not wanted to avoid a certain gentleman here."

This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Portlyn, was caught by Sonny, and, as it assured her that Chad wasn't less answerable for Skylar's absence than if her first surmise had been just, every feeling of displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediate disappointment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility to the polite inquiries which he directly afterwards approached to make. Attendance, forbearance, patience with Chad, was injury to Skylar. She was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away with a degree of ill humor which she couldn't wholly surmount even in speaking to Nico, whose blind partiality provoked her.

But Sonny wasn't formed for ill humor; and though every prospect of her own was destroyed for the evening, it couldn't dwell long on her spirits; and having told all her griefs to Mel Lucas, whom she had not seen for a week, she was soon able to make a voluntary transition to the oddities of her cousin, and to point him out to her particular notice. The first two dances, however, brought a return of distress; they were dances of mortification. Grady, awkward and solemn, apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of her release from him was ecstasy.

She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of talking of Skylar, and of hearing that he was universally liked. When those dances were over, she returned to Mel Lucas, and was in conversation with her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Chad who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind; Mel tried to console her:

"I dare say you will find him very agreeable."

"Heaven forbid! That would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Don't wish me such an evil."

When the dancing recommenced, however, and Chad approached to claim her hand, Mel couldn't help cautioning her in a whisper, not to be a simpleton, and allow her fancy for Skylar to make her appear unpleasant in the eyes of a man ten times his consequence. Sonny made no answer, and took her place in the set, amazed at the dignity to which she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Chad, and reading in her neighbors looks, their equal amazement in beholding it. They stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and at first was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk, "I love this dance"; Sonny said; "Indeed most invigorating" Chad replied; and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with:"It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Cooper. I talked about the dance, now you ought to remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples."

"I'm perfectly happy to oblige. What would you like most to hear"; He said

" That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. For now we may remain silent."

"Do you talk as a rule while dancing?"

"No, no I prefer to be, unsociable and taciturn, make it all much enjoyable, don't you think?"

"Tell me, do you and your sisters very often walk to Merytown"he asker her; She answered in the affirmative, and added, "it's a great opportunity to meet people, when you meet us, we'd just had the pleasure of forming a new acquaintance"

The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hater overspread his features, and in a constrained manner said, "Mr. DeVane's blessed with such happy manners, he's sure of making friends, whether he's capable of retaining them is less so."

"He's been so unfortunate as to lose your friendship. That is irreversible? " replied Sonny

"It is. Why do you ask such a question?"

"To make out your character"; she said

"What have you discovered?"

"Very little" Sonny said "I hear such different accounts of you and puzzle me exceedingly"

"I hope to afford you more clarity in the future"; he coldly replied

She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in silence; and on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, for in Chad's breast there was a tolerable powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against another.

* * *

They had not long separated, when Grady came up to her, and told her with great exultation that he had just been so fortunate as to make a most important discovery.

"I have found out," said he, "by a singular accident, that there is now in the room a near relation of my patroness. I happened to overhear the gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who does the honors of the house the names of his cousin Miss de Bourgh, and of her mother Lady Claire. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who would have thought of my meeting with, perhaps, a nephew of Lady Claire de Bourgh in this assembly! I am most thankful that the discovery is made in time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do, and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total ignorance of the connection must plead my apology."

"You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Cooper!" Sonny said

"Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier. I believe him to be Lady Claire's nephew. It will be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well yesterday night."

Sonny tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme, assuring him that Chad would consider his addressing him without introduction as an impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that it wasn't in the least necessary there should be any notice on either side; and that if it were, it must belong to Chad, the superior in consequence, to begin the acquaintance. Grady listened to her with the determined air of following his own inclination, and, when she ceased speaking, replied thus:

"My dear Miss Sonny, I have the highest opinion in the world in your excellent judgement in all matters within the scope of your understanding; but permit me to say, that there must be a wide difference between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity, and those which regulate the clergy; for, give me leave to observe that I consider the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank in the kingdom provided that a proper humility of behavior is at the same time maintained. You must therefore allow me to follow the dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which leads me to perform what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit by your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant guide, though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted by education and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young lady like yourself." And with a low bow he left her to attack Chad, whose reception of his advances she eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at being so addressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech with a solemn bow and though she couldn't hear a word of it, she felt as if hearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words "apology," "Hunsford," and "Lady Claire de Bourgh." It vexed her to see him expose himself to such a man. Chad was eyeing him with unrestrained wonder, and when at last Grady allowed him time to speak, replied with an air of distant civility. Grady, however, wasn't discouraged from speaking again, and Chad's contempt seemed abundantly increasing with the length of his second speech, and at the end of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way. Grady then returned to Sonny.

"I have no reason, I assure you," said he, "to be dissatisfied with my reception. Mr. Cooper seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered me with the utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of saying that he was so well convinced of Lady Claire's discernment as to be certain she could never bestow a favor unworthily. It was really a very handsome thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him."

As Sonny had no longer any interest of her own to pursue, she turned her attention almost entirely on her sister and Nico; and the train of agreeable reflections which her observations gave birth to, made her perhaps almost as happy as Tawni. She saw her in idea settled in that very house, in all the felicity which a marriage of true affection could bestow; and she felt capable, under such circumstances, of endeavoring even to like Nico's sister.

Her mother's was talking to that one person (Lady Lucas) freely, openly, and of nothing else but her expectation that Tawni would soon be married to Nico. It was an animating subject, and Mrs. Bennet seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His being such a charming young man, and so rich, and living but three miles from them, were the first points of selfgratulation; and then it was such a comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of Tawni, and to be certain that they must desire the connection as much as she could do. It was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters, as Tawni's marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men; and lastly, it was so pleasant at her time of life to be able to consign her single daughters to the care of their sister, that she might not be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It was necessary to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, because on such occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less likely than Mrs. Bennet to find comfort in staying home at any period of her life. She concluded with many good wishes that Lady Lucas might soon be equally fortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was no chance of it.

In vain did Sonny endeavor to check the rapidity of her mother's words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible whisper; for, to her inexpressible vexation, she could perceive that the chief of it was overheard by Chad, who sat opposite to them. Her mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.

"What is Mr. Cooper to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear."

"For heaven's sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be for you to offend Mr. Cooper? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by so doing!"

Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her mother would talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Sonny blushed and blushed again with shame and vexation. She couldn't help frequently glancing her eye at Chad, though every glance convinced her of what she dreaded; for though he wasn't always looking at her mother, she was convinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her. The expression of his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and steady gravity.

At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had no more to say; and Lady Lucas, who had been long yawning at the repetition of delights which she saw no likelihood of sharing. Sonny now began to revive. But not long was the interval of tranquillity; when singing was talked of, and she had the mortification of seeing Zora, after very little entreaty, preparing to oblige the company. By many significant looks and silent entreaties, did she endeavor to prevent such a proof of complaisance, but in vain; Zora would not understand them; such an opportunity of exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song. Sonny's eyes were fixed on her with most painful sensations, and she watched her progress through the several stanzas with an impatience which was very ill rewarded at their close; for Zora, on receiving, amongst the thanks of the table, the hint of a hope that she might be prevailed on to favor them again, after the pause of half a minute began another. Zora's powers were by no means fitted for such a display; her voice was weak, and her manner affected. Sonny was in agonies. She looked at Tawni, to see how she bore it; but Tawni was very composedly talking to Nico. She looked at his sister, and saw her making signs of derision at Chad, who continued, however, imperturbably grave. She looked at her father to entreat his interference, lest Zora should be singing all night. He took the hint, and when Zora had finished her second song, said aloud, "That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit." Zora, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted; and Sonny, sorry for her, and sorry for her father's speech, was afraid her anxiety had done no good. Others of the party were now applied to.

To Sonny it appeared that, had her family made an agreement to expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit or finer success; and happy did she think it for Nico and Tawni that some of the exhibition had escaped his notice, and that his feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed by the folly which he must have witnessed. That his sister and Chad, however, should have such an opportunity of ridiculing her relations, was bad enough, and she couldn't determine whether the silent contempt of the gentleman, or the insolent smile of the lady, were more intolerable.

The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was teased by Grady, who continued most perseveringly by her side, in vain did she entreat him to stand up with somebody else, and offer to introduce him to any young lady in the room. He assured her, that as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent to it; she owed her greatest relief to her friend Miss Lucas, who often joined them, and good naturedly engaged Grady's conversation to herself.

She was at least free from the offense of Chad's further notice; though often standing within a very short distance of her, quite disengaged, he never came near enough to speak. She felt it to be the probable consequence of her allusions to Skylar, and rejoiced in it.

The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart, and, by a manoeuvre of Mrs. Bennet, had to wait for their carriage a quarter of an hour after everybody else was gone, which gave them time to see how heartily they were wished away by some of the family. Penelope scarcely opened her mouth, except to complain of fatigue, and was evidently impatient to have the house to herself. She repulsed every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, and by so doing threw a languor over the whole party, which was very little relieved by the long speeches of Grady, who was complimenting Nico and his sister on the elegance of their entertainment, and the hospitality and politeness which had marked their behavior to their guests. Chad said nothing at all. Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene. Nico and Tawni were standing together, a little detached from the rest, and talked only to each other. Sonny preserved as steady a silence as Miss Harris; and even Portlyn was too much fatigued to utter more than the occasional exclamation of "Lord, how tired I am!" accompanied by a violent yawn.

When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs. Bennet was most pressingly civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn, and addressed herself especially to Nico, to assure him how happy he would make them by eating a family dinner with them at any time, without the ceremony of a formal invitation. Nico was all grateful pleasure, and he readily engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of waiting on her, after his return from London, whither he was obliged to go the next day for a short time.

Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied, and quitted the house under the delightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary preparations of settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes, she should undoubtedly see her daughter settled at Netherfield in the course of three or four months. Of having another daughter married to Grady, she thought with equal certainty, and with considerable, though not equal, pleasure. Sonny was the least dear to her of all her children; and though the man and the match were quite good enough for her, the worth of each was eclipsed by Nico and Netherfield.

* * *

**By the way someone asked me my age, the answer is in this chapter, Sterling is 21, then 21y+5y I have 26 soon to be 27 in March 2****nd**** I couldn't answer u by PM…**

**Oh I made a video of Chad and Sonny with the song I said in the previous chapter, if anyone wants to see it add this to youtube (.com/watch? v = GdulE3TMiSI)**

**Next Chapter maybe tomorrow**


	7. The Proposal

**Thanks for the reviews and alerts**

**Lady-Apricotxx.- Yeah ****you guessed all the characters… I thought of having Zora as another character for her age but I think she had a little of Mary's personality.**

**Andy.- You're right I'm a little old for SWAC but it's My Guilty Pleasure XD**

**Enjoy Chapter 7 "The proposal"**

**Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice"**

* * *

**PRIDE AND PREJUDICE**

**Chapter 7**

The next day at Longbourn. Grady has to made his declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as his leaving the next Saturday, and having no feelings of diffidence to make it distressing to himself even at the moment, he set about it in a very orderly manner, with all the observances, which he supposed a regular part of the business. On finding Mrs. Bennet, Sonny, and her sisters together, soon during breakfast, he addressed the mother and says:

"Mrs Bennet, I was hoping, if it wouldn't trouble you, that I might solicit a private audience with Miss Sonny?"

Before Sonny had time for anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs. Bennet answered instantly, "Oh, certainly, Sonny would be very happy indeed"and added "Everyone, out. Mr Mitchell would like a private audience with your sister." And, gathering her daughters together, she was hastening away, when Sonny called out:

"Wait, Mr Mitchell can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear."

With an annoyed look Mrs. Bennet replied "I desire you to stay where you are." And upon Sonny's seeming with embarrassed looks, about to escape, she added: " Everyone else to the drawing room.."

Sonny sat down again and tried to persuade Tawni to stay "Tawni. Tawni, don't... Tawni!", Mrs. Bennet perceiving this hurried her daughter to leave the breakfast room, Sonny turn to his father with a pleading look "Papa, stay" she muttered, Mr. Bennet gave to her sister an apologizing look and walked off.

Sonny wouldn't had choice that listen to Mr Mitchell, with an incessant feeling which were divided between distress and diversion. As soon as Mr. Bennet were gone, Grady leave a wildflower in the table before sonny and began .

"Dear Miss Sonny, my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of my future life. But before I am run away with my feelings, perhaps I may state my reasons for marrying."

The idea of Grady, with all his solemn composure, being run away with by his feelings, made Sonny so near laughing, that she couldn't use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him further, and he continued:

"Firstly, that it is the duty of a clergyman to set the example of matrimony in his parish. Secondly, I am convinced it will add greatly to my happiness. And thirdly, that it is at the urging of my esteemed patroness, Lady Claire, that I select a wife. My object in coming to Longbourn was to choose such a one from among Mr Bennet's daughters, for I am to inherit the estate and such an alliance will surely suit everyone. And now nothing remains but for me to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affections…." At this moment Grady gets down on one knee and Sonny know it was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now. "Mr Mitchell!" She cried, Grady ignoring her continued his speech "And no reproach on the subject of fortune will cross my lips once we're married."

"You forget I have given no answer." Sonny said

"Lady Claire will thoroughly approve when I speak to her of your modesty, economy and other amiable qualities." Grady said with an air of awkward gallantry

"Sir, I am honored by your proposal, but I regret that I must decline it." She said

"I know ladies don't seek to seem too eager..."

"Mr Mitchell, I am perfectly serious. You could not make me happy. And I'm the last woman in the world who could make you happy." Sonny cried

"I flatter myself that your refusal is merely a natural delicacy. Besides, despite manifold attractions, it is by no means certain another offer of marriage will ever be made to you. I must conclude that you simply seek to increase my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females."

"I am not the sort of female to torment a respectable man. Please understand me, I cann't accept you."Sonny said

To such perseverance in willful self-deception Sonny wouldn't take it anymore and immediately and in silence withdrew.

* * *

Mrs Bennet not sooner saw Sonny open the door and with quick step pass her towards the courtyard, than she entered the breakfast room, and congratulated both him and herself in warm terms on the happy prospect or their nearer connection. Grady received and returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and then proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with the result of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied, since the refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally flow from her bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of her character.

This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennet; she would have been glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had meant to encourage him by protesting against his proposals, but she dared not believe it, and couldn't help saying so.

"But, depend upon it, Mr. Mitchell," she added, "that Sonny shall be brought to reason. I will speak to her about it directly. She is a very headstrong, foolish girl, and doesn't know her own interest but I will make her know it."

She wouldn't give him time to reply, but hurrying instantly to her husband, called out as she entered the library, "Oh! Mr Bennet, we're all in an uproar! You must come and make Sonny marry Mr Mitchell."

Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them on her face with a calm unconcern which was not in the least altered by her communication.

"I have not the pleasure of understanding you," said he, when she had finished her speech. "Of what are you talking?"

"Mr. Mitchels has proposed to Sonny but she vowed she will not have him, and now the danger is Mr. Mitchels may not have Sonny."

"What am I to do?."Mr. Bennet asked

"Well, come and talk to her."

And then Mr. and Mrs. Bennet went to the courtyard looking for Sonny

* * *

Sonny was in the lake watching the ducks swimming, when she saw her father appeared. "Come here, child," cried her father as he saw her. "I have sent for you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Mitchell has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?" Sonny replied that it was. "Very well and this offer of marriage you have refused?"

"I have, sir."

"Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?"

"Yes, or I will never see her again."

"An unhappy alternative is before you, Sonny. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Mitchell, and I will never see you again if you do."

Sonny couldn't but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning, but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed.

"Ungrateful child! I sall never speak to you again. Not that i take much pleasure in talking. People who suffer as i do from nervous complaints can have no pleasure in talking to anybody." Mrs. bennet shouted as she followed Sonny back to the house

Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband, did Mrs. Bennet give up the point. She talked to Sonny again and again; coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavored to secure Tawni in her interest; but Tawni, with all possible mildness, declined interfering; and Sonny, sometimes with real earnestness, and sometimes with playful gaiety, replied to her attacks. Though her manner varied, however, her determination never did..

* * *

**Sorry I hadn't update the last days, first I was a little moody because my team had lost the last two games and I was like come on guys you're better than that! sorry for my outburst but I love soccer ...**

**And then I had a little block I didn't know how to made this chapter ****if it should be based on the movie or the book****, this proposal is full of boredom and awkwardness it's something like the anti-proposal , ****the first time I read the book was like poor man, he really believe that she will accept his proposal, he's so wrong… Anyway I hope you had enjoyed this chapter.**

**Next Chapter which I'm starting now and don't know how it's will be called, could be up in two days or sooner i'm still have a little block =(**


	8. Surprises

**Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice**

* * *

**PRIDE AND PREJUDICE**

**Chapter 8**

The discussion of Grady's offer was now nearly at an end, and Sonny had only to suffer from the uncomfortable feelings necessarily attending it, and occasionally from some peevish allusions of her mother. As for the gentleman himself, his feelings were chiefly expressed, not by embarrassment or dejection, or by trying to avoid her, but by stiffness of manner and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to her, and the assiduous attentions which he had been so sensible of himself were transferred for the rest of the day to Mel, whose civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all, and especially to her friend.

The next day produced no decrease of Mrs. Bennet's illhumor or ill health. Grady was also in the same state of angry pride. Sonny had hoped that his resentment might shorten his visit, but his plan didn't appear in the least affected by it. He was always to have gone on Saturday, and to Saturday he meant to stay.

After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton to inquire if Skylar were returned. Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Tawni; it came from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, little, hot pressed paper, well covered with a lady's fair, flowing hand; and Sonny saw her sister's countenance change as she read it, and saw her dwelling intently on some particular passages. Tawni recollected herself soon, and putting the letter away, tried to join with her usual cheerfulness in the general conversation; but Sonny felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off her attention even from Skylar; and no sooner had he and his companion taken leave, than a glance from Tawni invited her to follow her upstairs. When they had gained their own room, Tawni said:

" Penelope Harris; send me a letter and what it contains has surprised me a good deal. The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way to town and without knowing when they're coming back again."

"I don't understand what would take him from Netherfield."Sonny said; "Why does he not know when he'll return?"

Tawni, taking out the letter, said: "Read it, I don't mind"

She then read a sentence aloud, "Mr. Cooper is impatient to see his sister and we are scarcely less eager to met her again. I don't think Chastity Ann Cooper has her equal for beauty, elegance and accomplishment"; Sonny read and conclude with a mocking tone " I hope to call her hereafter my sister"

"Is that not clear enough?"Tawni said

"Penelope sees her brother in love with youand has taken him off to persuade him otherwise" Sonny said taking out Tawni's clothes and putting them in a suitcase

Tawni shook her head. "But I know her to be incapable of willfully deceiving anyone" made a pause and added "it's more likely he does not love me"

"He love you Tawn. Don't give up" she firmly said. "Go to our aunt and uncle's in London, let it be know you're there and I am sure he will come to you." Sonny said kissing her forehead.

Tawni 's leaving the next morning, the family said their goodbye. "Give my love to my sister and try not to be a burden, dear" her mother cried watching the carriage move away

"Poor Tawni" Mr. Bennet said to Sonny "Still, a girl likes to be crossed in love now an then. It gives her something to think of and a sort of distinction amongst her companions"

"I'm sure that will cheer her up, Papa"

"it's your turn now, Sonny. You've turned down Mitchell. You're free to go off and be jilted yourself. What about Mr. DeVane?. He's pleasant fellow and he'd do the job credibly."

"Father" she cried

"And you have an affectionate mother who make the most of it"

Sonny hated his father's insolence, but she couldn't deny that she loved him so much.

* * *

The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases and again during the chief of the day was Mel so kind as to listen to Grady, Sonny took an opportunity of thanking her. "It keeps him in good humor," said she, "and I am more obliged to you than I can express." Mel assured her friend of her satisfaction in being useful, and that it amply repaid her for the little sacrifice of her time. This was very amiable, but Mel's kindness extended farther than Sonny had any conception of; its object was nothing else than to secure her from any return of Grady's addresses, by engaging them towards herself. Such was Mel's scheme; and appearances were so favorable, that when they parted at night, she would have felt almost secure of success if he hadn't been to leave Hertfordshire so very soon. But here she did injustice to the fire and independence of his character, for it led him to escape out of Longbourn House the next morning with admirable slyness, and hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw himself at her feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins, from a conviction that if they saw him depart, they couldn't fail to conjecture his design, and he wasn't willing to have the attempt known till its success might be known likewise; for though feeling almost secure, and with reason, for Mel had been tolerably encouraging, he was comparatively diffident since the adventure of Wednesday.

His reception, however, was of the most flattering kind. Mel perceived him from an upper window as he walked towards the house, and instantly set out to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had she dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited her there.

In as short a time as Grady's long speeches would allow, everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both; and as they entered the house he earnestly entreated her to name the day that was to make him the happiest of men; and though such a solicitation must be waived for the present, the lady felt no inclination to trifle with his happiness. The stupidity with which he was favored by nature must guard his courtship from any charm that could make a woman wish for its continuance; and Mel, who accepted him solely from the pure and disinterested desire of an establishment, cared not how soon that establishment were gained.

Sir William and Lady Lucas were speedily applied to for their consent; and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. Grady's present circumstances made it a most eligible match for their daughter, to whom they could give little fortune; and his prospects of future wealth were exceedingly fair.

The least agreeable circumstance in the business was the surprise it must occasion to Sonny Bennet, whose friendship she valued beyond that of any other person.

As he was to begin his journey too early on the morning to see any of the family, the ceremony of leave taking was performed when the ladies moved for the night; and Mrs. Bennet, with great politeness and cordiality, said how happy they should be to see him at Longbourn again, whenever his engagements might allow him to visit them.

"My dear madam," he replied, "this invitation is particularly gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive; and you may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon as possible."

They were all astonished; and Mr. Bennet, who could by no means wish for so speedy a return, immediately said:

"But is there not danger of Lady Claire's disapprobation here, my good sir? You had better neglect your relations than run the risk of offending your patroness."

"My dear sir," replied Mr. Mitchells, "I am particularly obliged to you for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not taking so material a step without her ladyship's concurrence."

"You can't be too much upon your guard. Risk anything rather than her displeasure; and if you find it likely to be raised by your coming to us again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home, and be satisfied that we shall take no offence."

"Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by such affectionate attention; and depend upon it, you will speedily receive from me a letter of thanks for this, and for every other mark of your regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins, though my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, I shall now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting my cousin Sonny."

With proper civilities the ladies then withdrew; all of them equally surprised that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet wished to understand by it that he thought of paying his addresses to one of her younger girls, and Zora might have been prevailed on to accept him. She rated his abilities much higher than any of the others; there was a solidity in his reflections which often struck her, and though by no means so clever as herself, she thought that if encouraged to read and improve himself by such an example as hers, he might become a very agreeable companion. But on the following morning, every hope of this kind was done away. Miss Lucas called soon after breakfast, and in a private conference with Sonny related the event of the day before.

"My dear Sonny" Mel said; "I've come here to tell you the news Mr. Mitchell and I are… engaged"

The possibility of Grady's fancying himself in love with her friend had once occurred to Sonny within the last day or two; but that Mel could encourage him seemed almost as far from possibility as she could encourage him herself, and her astonishment was consequently so great as to overcome at first the bounds of decorum, and she couldn't help crying out:

"Engaged!"

"Yes"

"to be married?" Sonny couldn't stop her astonishment and confusion

"Yes, of course Sonny. What other kind of engaged is there?" Mel replied quietly; "For heaven's sake, Sonny don't look at me like that. I should be as happy with him as any other."

"But he's ridiculous." Sonny cried

"Oh, hush. Not all of us can afford to be romantic. I've been offered a comfortable home an protection. There's a lot to be thankful for."

"Mel" Sonny whisper

"I'm twenty seven years old. I've no money and no prospects. I'm already a burden to my parents. And I'm frightened. So don't judge me, Sonny. Don't you dare judge me."

After an awkward pause, they returned to the rest of the family. Mel didn't stay much longer, and Sonny was then left to reflect on what she had heard. It was a long time before she became at all reconciled to the idea of so unsuitable a match. The strangeness of Grady's making two offers of marriage within three days wasn'thing in comparison of his being now accepted. She had always felt that Mel's opinion of matrimony wasn't exactly like her own, but she hadn't supposed it to be possible that, when called into action, she would have sacrificed every better feeling to worldly advantage. Mel the wife of Grady was a most humiliating picture! And to the pang of a friend disgracing herself and sunk in her esteem, was added the distressing conviction that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot she had chosen.

* * *

Sonny was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorised to mention it, when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter, to announce her engagement to the family. With many compliments to them, and much self gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the houses, he unfolded the matter to an audience not merely wondering, but incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken; and Portlyn, always unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed:

"Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? don't you know that Mr. Mitchell wants to marry Sonny?"

Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne without anger such treatment; but Sir William's good breeding carried him through it all; he listened to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy.

Sonny, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account, by mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Mel herself; and endeavored to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William and by making a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character of Grady, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.

Mrs. Bennet was in fact too much overpowered to say a great deal while Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings found a rapid vent. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Grady had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy together; and fourthly, that the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that Sonny was the real cause of the mischief; and the other that she herself had been barbarously misused by them all; and on these two points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could console and nothing could appease her. Nor did that day wear out her resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Sonny without scolding her, a month passed away before she could speak to Sir William or Lady Lucas without being rude, and many months were gone before she could at all forgive their daughter.

The promised letter of thanks from Grady arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a twelve month's abode in the family might have prompted. After discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection of their amiable neighbor, Mel, and then explained that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight; for Lady Claire, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that she wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Mel to name an early day for making him the happiest of men.

* * *

Grady returned into Hertfordshire soon; but as he took up his abode with the Lucases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. Bennet. His marriage was now fast approaching, and she was at length so far resigned as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say, in an ill natured tone, that she "wished they might be happy." Thursday was to be the wedding day, and on Wednesday Mel paid her farewell visit; and when she rose to take leave, Sonny, ashamed of her mother's ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected herself, accompanied her out of the room. As they went downstairs together, Mel said:

"I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Sonny."

"That you certainly shall."

"And I have another favor to ask you. Will you come and see me?"

"We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire."

"I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to come to Hunsford."

Sonny couldn't refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in the visit.

"My father is coming to me in March," added Mel, "and I hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Sonny, you will be as welcome as either of them."

The wedding took place; the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from the church door, and everybody had as much to say, or to hear, on the subject as usual. Sonny soon heard from her friend; and their correspondence was as regular and frequent as it had ever been; that it should be equally unreserved was impossible. Sonny could never address her without feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over, and though determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the sake of what had been, rather than what was. Mel's first letters were received with a good deal of eagerness; there couldn't but be curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how she would like Lady Claire, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself to be; though, when the letters were read, Sonny felt that Mel expressed herself on every point exactly as she might have foreseen. She wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing which she couldn't praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and roads, were all to her taste, and Lady Claire's behavior was most friendly and obliging. It was Grady's picture of Hunsford and Rosings rationally softened; and Sonny perceived that she must wait for her own visit there to know the rest.

Tawni had already written a few lines to her sister to announce their safe arrival in London; and when she wrote again, Sonny hoped it would be in her power to say something of the Harriss.

Her impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as impatience generally is. Tawni had been a week in town without either seeing or hearing from Penelope. She accounted for it, however, by supposing that her last letter to her friend from Longbourn had by some accident been lost.

"My aunt," she continued, "is going tomorrow into that part of the town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor Street."

She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss Harris. "I didn't think Penelope in spirits," were her words, "but she was very glad to see me, and reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming to London. I was right, therefore, my last letter had never reached her. I inquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so much engaged with Mr. Cooper that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that Miss Cooper was expected to dinner. I wish I could see her. My visit wasn't long, as Penelope was going out. I dare say I shall see her soon here."

Sonny shook her head over this letter. It convinced her that accident only could discover to Nico her sister's being in town.

Four weeks passed away, and Tawni saw nothing of him. She endeavored to persuade herself that she didn't regret it; but she could no longer be blind to Penelope's inattention. After waiting at home every morning for a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for her, the visitor did at last appear; but the shortness of her stay, and yet more, the alteration of her manner would allow Tawni to deceive herself no longer. The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her sister will prove what she felt.

"My dearest Sonny. Penelope didn't return my visit till yesterday; and not a note, not a line, did I receive in the meantime. When she did come, it was very evident that she had no pleasure in it; she made a slight, formal apology, for not calling before, said not a word of wishing to see me again, and was in every respect so altered a creature, that when she went away I was perfectly resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer. Mr. Harris knows of my being in town, I am certain, from something she said herself; and yet it would seem, by her manner of talking, as if she wanted to persuade herself that he's really partial to Miss Cooper. I can't understand it. If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be almost tempted to say that there is a strong appearance of duplicity in all this. But I will endeavor to banish every painful thought, and think only of what will make me happy your affection, and the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear from you very soon. Penelope said something of his never returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not with any certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely glad that you have such pleasant accounts from our friends at Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with Sir William and Maria. I am sure you will be very comfortable there. Yours, etc."

This letter gave Sonny some pain; but her spirits returned as she considered that Tawni would no longer be duped, by the sister at least. All expectation from the brother was now absolutely over. She wouldn't even wish for a renewal of his attentions. His character sunk on every review of it; and as a punishment for him, as well as a possible advantage to Tawni, she seriously hoped he might really soon marry Chad's sister, as by Skylar's account, she would make him abundantly regret what he had thrown away.

* * *

**Yeah, the weekend is here… **

**Next Chapter "Kent"**


	9. Kent Part 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice**

* * *

**PRIDE AND PREJUDICE**

**Chapter 9**

"Dear Mel, thank you for your letter. I'm so glad the house, furniture and roads are to you taste, and that Lady Claire's behavior is friendly and obliging. What with your departure, Tawni's to London and the militia to the North with the colorful Mr. DeVane, I must confess, the view from where i sit has been rather grey. As for the favor you ask me, it's no favor at all. I would be happy to visit you at your earliest convenience"

It was a journey of only twenty-four miles, and she began it so early as to be in Kent by noon. At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden sloping to the road, the house standing in it, the green pales, and the laurel hedge, everything declared she was arriving. Grady and Mel appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at the small gate which led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of the whole party. In a moment she was out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other. Mel runs and hugs Sonny.

"Welcome to our humble adobe" Grady said while the two young ladies hugged

"My wife encourages me to spens time in the garden for my health"

"My dear i think our guest is tired after her journey."Mel said quietly

"I plan many improvements. I intend to throw out a bough and plant a lime walk"; grady said "I flatter myself that any young lady would be happy to be mistress of such a house" by this time Sonny and Mel left him and went to another room.

"We shan't be disturbed here, this parlor is for my own particular use"; Mel said as she handled a tea cup to Sonny; "Oh Sonny, it's such a pleasure to run my own home" Sonny could not help feeling awkward with Mel, their friendship had not yet fully restored and before she could reply they hear Grady call out:

"Mel, Come here!"

"What happened?"Sonny asked

"Has the pig escaped again?"Mel cried to her husband;

"Oh, it's Lady Claire." Surprised Mel said; "Come and see, Sonny"

"Great news. We received an invitation to Rosings from Lady Claire de Bourgh" Grady said

"How wonderful!"Mel exclaimed

"Don't make yourself uneasy my dear cousin about your apparel"

"Just put on the best you've brought" Mel said

"Lady Claire's never been averse to the truly humble."

Sonny gave a weak smile to her friend and cousin she wasn't prepared for such events.

* * *

"One of the most extraordinary sights in all of Europe. The glazing alone costs upwards of £20,000 . Come along. Come along" Grady said as they approached the entrance of Rosings.

From the entrance-hall, they followed the servants through an ante-chamber, to the room where Lady Claire and her daughter were sitting. Her ladyship, with great condescension, arose to receive them.

Sonny was amazed at such beauty, the place was more than gorgeous

"A little later we'll play cards"; Lady Claire said to her daughter

"Your Ladyship, Miss de Bourgh"; Grady said politically and motioned to his wife and cousin to approximate.

"So you're Sonny Bennet?"; Lady Claire ask

"I am, your Ladyship"; Sonny replied;

Lady Claire said nothing, only saw her from head to toe; "Oh, this is my daughter"; she said

"It's kind of you to ask us to dine"; Mel said

Sonny continued admiring the place, when Grady whispered "The rug alone cost upwards of £300...";he couldn't finish his sentence by Sonny astonishment to see Chad at the entrance of the room.

"Mr. Cooper" Sonny said surprised; "What are you doing here?"; Chad didn't respond.

"Mr. Cooper, I had no idea we had the honor." Grady said

"Miss Sonny, I'm a guest here.";Chad said

"You know my nephew?" Lady Claire ask, the surprise was evident in his voice

Sonny was taken off guard by Lady Claire; "Yes ma'am, I had the pleasure of meeting your nephew in Hertfordshire."

"Colonel Chaz Milton Looper. How do you do?"; said a man with similar features to Chad

The time pass between small talks and Grady's comments about Rosings, when dinner was ready they all went to the dining room. "Mr Mitchell, you can't sit next to your wife. Move. Over there"; Lady Claire said pointing to Sonny, they changed places and Sonny sat next to Chad.

"I trust your family is in good health, Miss Sonny?" Chad said

"They are, thank you" She answered him in the usual way, and after a moment's pause, added; "My eldest sister is in London. Perhaps you saw her there."

She was perfectly sensible that he never had; but she wished to see whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passed between the Harris's and Tawni, and she thought he looked a little confused as he answered "I haven't been fortunate enough..."; Chad was interrupted by Lady Claire; "Do you play the pianoforte Miss Bennet?"

"A little, ma'am, and very poorly."

"Oh"; she replied and began an interrogation "Do you draw?"

"No, not at all" Sonny said

"Your sister, do they draw?"

Sonny replied a little annoyed "Not one"

"That's very strange" Lady Claire said, "I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother should've taken you to town for the benefit of the masters.", she added

"My mother wouldn't have minded but my father hates town"

"Has your governess left you?" Lady Claire ask

"We never had a governess"

Lady Claire couldn't help but be surprised and said "No governess?. Five daughters brought up at home without a governess?. I never heard such a thing. Your mother must've been a slave to your education"

Sonny could hardly help smiling as she assured her that had not been the case. "Not at all, Lady Claire". At this point Sonny wished for someone to change the subject and stop being the point of conversation.

"Your younger sister, are they out in society?"

"Yes, ma'am all"

"All?" Lady Claire said shocked; "What, all five out at once?. That's very odd. And you are the second. The younger ones out before the elders are married?. Your youngest sisters must be very young"

"Yes, my youngest is not 16", she replied; "But would be hard on younger sisters not to have their amusement because the elder is still unmarried, it would hardly encourage sisterly affection." Sonny firmly said

"Upon my word"said her ladyship, "you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person, Pray what is your age?"

"With three younger sisters grown up you can hardly expect me to own to it" Sonny said

Lady Claire seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer; and Sonny suspected herself to be the first creature who had ever dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence.

* * *

When they returned to the drawing-room, there was little to be done but to hear Lady Claire talk, which she did without any intermission till coffee came in, delivering her opinion on every subject in so decisive a manner, as proved that she was not used to have her judgment controverter.

"Come, Miss Bennet, and play for us", Lady Claire said

"No, I beg you"

"For music is my delight. In fact, there are a few people in England who have more true enjoyment of music, then myself. Or better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should've been a great proficient."

"Lady Claire, I'm not afflicted with false modesty, when I say I play poorly..."Sonny was interrupted by Grady "Come, Sonny, her Ladyship demands it" Sonny couldn't do nothing more than play

"How does Chastity Ann get along, Chad?", Lady Claire ask

"She plays very well", Chad said

"I hope she practices, no excellence can be acquired without constant practice. I've told Mrs. Mitchell this. Though you have no instrument, you're welcome to come to Rosings and play on the pianoforte in the housekeeper's room. You'll be in nobody's way in that part of the house"

Chad hardly can pay attention to his aunt, he was admiring Sonny plays and making with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance. Sonny saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said; "You mean to frighten me by coming in all your state to hear me. But I won't be alarmed, even if your sister does play so well"; "I know that I can't alarm you even should I wish it" he replied.

"What was my friend like in Hertfordshire?", said Chaz

Sonny stop playing and said "You really care to know, prepare yourself for something very dreadful", She made a pause and added "The fist time I saw him, he danced with nobody, thought gentlemen were scarce and there was more than one lady without a partner"

"I knew nobody beyond my own party"

"Oh Nobody can be introduced at a ball room" she said sarcastically

"Chaz, I need you" Lady Claire cried

Chaz said goodbye and left the two continue their conversation. After a moment of silence, Chad quietly said "I don't have the talent of conversing easily with people I have never met before"

"Perhaps you should take your aunt's advice and practice", Sonny said in a mocking tone.

Here they were interrupted by Lady Claire, who called out to know what they were talking of. Sonny immediately began playing again. Lady Claire approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said to Cooper:

"Miss Bennet wouldn't play at all amiss if she practiced more, and could've the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would've been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn."

Sonny looked at Chad to see how cordially he assented to his cousin's praise; but neither at that moment not at any other could she discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behavior to Miss de Bourgh she derived this comfort for Penelope, that he might have been just as likely to marry her, had she been his relation.

Lady Claire continued her remarks on Sonny's performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. Sonny received them with all the forbearance of civility, and, at the request of the gentlemen, remained at the instrument till her ladyship's carriage was ready to take them all home.

* * *

**Next Chapter "Kent Part 2"**


	10. Kent Part 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice**

**

* * *

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE**

**Chapter 10**

Sonny was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Tawni while Grady and Mel were gone on business into the village, when the door opened, and to her very great surprise, Chad, and Chad only, entered the room.

"Mr. Cooper!" Sonny say putting away her half-finished letter and stood; "Please, do be seated" Chad didn't respond and remained standing, nervously playing with his gloves; Sonny feeling uncomfortable said "Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell have gone on business to the village."

Chad remained silent trying to form a reply but no word left his lips. Few seconds went until Chad could say: "This is a charming house. I believe my aunt did a great deal to it when Mr. Mitchell first arrived."

"I believe so" She said; "She couldn't have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful subject"

Chad didn't respond again, this made her feel even more uncomfortable, "Shall I call for some tea?" She ask; "No, thank you" was his reply; and soon he put an end to his visit by the entrance of Mel; "Good day, Miss Sonny, it's been a pleasure" without saying much to anybody, went away.

"What on earth have you done to poor Mr. Cooper? Mel ask

"I have no idea"

* * *

Very few days passed in which Grady didn't walk to Rosings, and not many in which his wife didn't think it necessary to go likewise; and till Sonny recollected that there might be other family livings to be disposed of, she couldn't understand the sacrifice of so many hours.

Today they woke up early for church, was a normal Sunday in church, Grady was giving one of his large sermons, "Even mind must have some counselor to whom it may apply for consolation in distress. There are many conveniences which others can supply and we can't procure, I have in view those objects which are only to be obtained through intercourse..."; Grady said, "Forgive me, through the intercourse of friendship or civility on such occasions, the proud man steps forth to meet you not with cordiality..."

"How long do you plan to stay in Kent?" Sonny ask to Colonel Chaz

"As long as Chad chooses" Chaz said, "I am at his disposal."

"Everyone appears to be at his disposal" Sonny said, "I wonder he doesn't marry and secure a lasting convenience of that kind"

"She would be a lucky woman" Chaz replied

"Really?" Sonny said annoyed

"Chad is a most loyal companion", he made a pause and added, "He recently came to the rescue of one of his friends just in time"

"What happened?" Sonny asked anxious

"He saved him from an imprudent marriage"

"Who's the man?" Sonny asked, staring at Chad sitting on the other side of the church

"His closest friend, Nico Harris" Chaz replied

"Did Mr. Cooper give a reason for this interference?"

"There were apparently strong objections to the lady"

"What kind of objections? Her lack of fortune?"

"I think it was her family that was considered unsuitable."

"So he separated them?"

"I believe so. I know nothing else"

* * *

Sonny couldn't believe what she'd heard, her sister's heartbroken and unhappy and Chad was the one to blame. What he had done?. How he could separate two people in love. "There were some very strong objections against the lady," were Colonel Chaz Milton Looper's words; and those strong objections probably were, her having one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was in business in London.

Sonny thought all this while she walked through Rosings's gardens. She was immersed in her thoughts that she didn't realize had begun to rain, she was away from Mel and Grady's home, she will have to find a place to shelter from the rain.

The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned, brought on a headache; and it grew so much worse towards the noon. She was in a gazebo watching the pouring rain when she turns her head, standing on her left was Chad, Sonny was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began:

"Miss Sonny. I have struggled in vain and can bear it no longer. These past months have been a torment. I came to Rosings only to see you" he made a pause, "I have fought against judgment, my family's expectation, the inferiority of your birth, my rank. All this circumstances I will put them aside and ask you to end my agony"

"I don't understand", Sonny said

"I love you", Chad quietly said, "Most ardently"

Sonny's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, colored, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed; and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority of its being a degradation of the family obstacles which had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit.

In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she couldn't be insensible to the compliment of such a man's affection, and though her intentions didn't vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to receive; till, roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she lost all compassion in anger. She tried, however, to compose herself to answer him with patience, when he should have done. He concluded with "Please do me the honor of accepting my hand". As he said this, she could easily see that he had no doubt of a favorable answer. He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real security. Such a circumstance could only exasperate farther, and, when he ceased, the color rose into her cheeks, and she said:

"Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through, and I am very sorry to have caused you pain, believe me it was unconsciously done"

Chad, who was standing against the column with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and wouldn't open his lips till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Sonny's feelings dreadful. At length, with a voice of forced calmness, he said:

"And this is all the reply?"

"Yes sir", said she

"Are you, are you laughing at me?"

"No"

"Are you rejecting me?"Chad said incredibly

"I'm sure the feelings which hindered you regard will help you overcome it" Sonny said coldly

"Might I ask why with so little civility I am thus repulsed?" He said angrily

"I might as well enquire," replied she, "why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your better judgment."

"No, believe me, I don't mean..." She interrupted, "If I was uncivil, then that is some excuse. But I have other provocations. You know I have." She said

"What reasons?" Chad asked

"Do you think anything might tempt me to accept the man who has ruined, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?"

As she pronounced these words, Mr. Cooper changed color; but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued:

"Do you deny it Mr. Cooper? Do you deny that you separated a young couple who loved each other, exposing your friend to censure for caprice and my sister to derision for disappointed hopes, involving them both in misery of the acutest kind?"

She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity.

"I don't deny it" he replied.

"How could you do it?" She said incredulously

"Because I believed your sister indifferent to him"

"Indifferent?"

"I watch them most carefully, I realized his attachment was deeper that hers"

"That's because she's shy!" Sonny cried

"Nico too, and he most was persuaded she didn't feel strongly for him"

"Because you suggested it"

"I did it for his own good"

"My sister hardly shows her true feelings to me" Sonny said angrily; after a pause she added "I suppose his fortune had some bearing?"

"No, I wouldn't do your sister the dishonor it was suggested..."

Sonny interrupted, "What was?"

"It was clear and advantageous marriage"

"Did my sister give that impression?" she said indignantly

"No!" Chad said exasperated, "No, there was, however, your family..."

"Our want of connection? Mr. Harris never talk about that"

"No, it was more than that"

"How sir?"

"It was the lack of propriety shown by your mother, your three younger sisters and even occasionally your father" He realized what he just had said and added "Forgive me. You and your sister I must exclude from this"

Seconds passed before Sonny asked "And what about Mr. DeVane?"

"Mr. DeVane?"

"What excuse can you give for your behavior towards him?"

"You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns," said Chad, in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened color.

"He told me of his misfortunes"

"Oh, his misfortunes!" repeated Cooper contemptuously; "yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed"

"You ruin his chances and yet you treat him with sarcasm"

"So this" cried Chad, as he walked with quick steps across the place approaching her, "is your opinion of me?. Thank you, for explained hurtfully. Perhaps these offences might have been overlooked if had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples about our relationship. Could you expect me for rejoice for the inferiority of your circumstances?"

"And those are the words of a gentleman" cried Sonny. She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, and she continued:

"You couldn't have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it."

Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked at her with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went on:

"For the first moment I meet you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of the others, made me realize you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed on to marry" She said angrily

Chad has to control himself; even now he wanted to kiss her. "Forgive me" he paused and hurtful added, "Madam, for taking up so much of your time". And with these words he hastily left the place, and Sonny saw him go.

The tumult of her mind was now painfully great. She knew not how to support herself, and from actual weakness sat down and cried for half-an-hour. Her astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by every review of it. That she should receive an offer of marriage from Chad! That he should have been in love with her for so many months! So much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections which had made him prevent his friend's marrying her sister, and which must appear at least with equal force in his own case was almost incredible! It was gratifying to have inspired unconsciously so strong an affection. But his pride, his abominable pride his shameless avowal of what he had done with respect to Tawni his unpardonable assurance in acknowledging, though he couldn't justify it, and the unfeeling manner in which he had mentioned Skylar, his cruelty towards whom he had not attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which the consideration of his attachment had for a moment excited. She continued in very agitated reflections till the sound of a carriage made her feel how unequal she was to encounter Mel's observation, and hurried her away to the house.

**

* * *

**

**This is my favorite part of the film Matthew and Kiera did an excellent job, you could feel Darcy's despair and how he almost lost control, he wants to kiss her so badly. I prefer the 2005 version than 1995 although this is more attached to the book but I rather like Matt & Keira as Darcy & Elizabeth** **they made a good screen couple. ****Although to be honest I think influenced that I saw 1995 version in Spanish and 2005 in O.V.**

**Next Chapter "The Letter"**


	11. A Letter

**Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice**

**

* * *

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE**

**Chapter 11**

Sonny awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations which had at length closed her eyes. She couldn't yet recover from the surprise of what had happened; it was impossible to think of anything else; and, totally indisposed for employment, she went to Grady's library took Freud's sermons and began to read; she smile remembering the day she met Grady and his failed attempt to entertain them with his reading, she tried to focus on the book but was impossible. Sonny left the book and walked around the room, she stood front the mirror just looking at her reflection.

"I came to give you this" Chad said, leaving a letter on the desk and then, with a slight bow, turned again, and was soon out of sight.

Sonny hardly had noticed Chad's presence, she believe it was a hallucination. When she realized that he had been there, he was already gone.

With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity, Sonny opened the letter, and, to her still increasing wonder, perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter paper, written quite through, in a very close hand. The envelope itself was likewise full. Walking around the room, she then began it. It was dated from Rosings, at eight o'clock in the morning, and was as follows:-

"I shall not renew the sentiments which were so disgusting to you. I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten; and the effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion, should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly. But if I may, I will address the two offences you have laid against me."

"I had not been long in Hertfordshire, before I saw, in common with others, that Nico preferred your elder sister to any other young woman in the country. But it wasn't till the evening of the dance at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him in love before. At that ball, while I had the honor of dancing with you, I was first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas's accidental information, that Harris's attentions to your sister had given rise to a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it as a certain event, of which the time alone could be undecided. From that moment I observed my friend's behavior attentively; and I could then perceive that his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him. Your sister I also watched. Her look and manners were open, cheerful, and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar regard, and I remained convinced from the evening's scrutiny, that though she received his attentions with pleasure, she didn't invite them by any participation of sentiment. If you have not been mistaken here, I must have been in error. Your superior knowledge of your sister must make the latter probable. If it be so, if I have been misled by such error to inflict pain on her, your resentment has not been unreasonable. But I shall not scruple to assert, that the serenity of your sister's countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart wasn't likely to be easily touched. That I was desirous of believing her indifferent is certain but I will venture to say that my investigation and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears. I didn't believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; I believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason. My objections to the marriage weren't merely those which I last night acknowledged to have the utmost force of passion to put aside, in my own case; the want of connection couldn't be so great an evil to my friend as to me. But there were other causes of repugnance; causes which, though still existing, and existing to an equal degree in both instances, I had myself endeavored to forget, because they weren't immediately before me. These causes must be stated, though briefly. The situation of your mother's family, though objectionable, was nothing in comparison to that total want of propriety so frequently. I will only say farther that from what passed that evening, my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every inducement heightened which could've led me before, to preserve my friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy connection. He left Netherfield for London, on the day following, as you, I am certain, remember, with the design of soon returning. Though the motives which governed me may appear insufficient, they were in the service of a friend"

"As to the other, more weighty accusation, of having injured Mr. DeVane, I can only refute it by laying before you the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he has particularly accused me I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity"

"My father loved Skylar DeVane as a son. By consequence he left him a generous living. But upon my father's death, Mr. DeVane announced he had no intention of taking orders. He demanded the value of the living which was given, which he'd gambled away within weeks. He then wrote, demanding more money, which I refused. After which, he severed all acquaintance. He came back to see us last summer, and declared passionate love for my sister, whom he tried to persuade to elope with him. She's to inherit £30,000. When it was made clear he would never receive a penny of it, he disappeared. I will not attempt to convey the depth of Chastity's despair. She was 15 years old"

"You may possibly wonder why all this wasn't told you last night; but I wasn't then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel Chaz Milton Looper, who, from our near relationship and constant intimacy, and, still more, as one of the executors of my father's will, has been unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If your abhorrence of me should make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavor to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you"

"CHAD DYLAN COOPER"

* * *

If Sonny, when Chad gave her the letter, didn't expect it to contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed no expectation at all of its contents. But such as they were, it may well be supposed how eagerly she went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion they excited. Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did she first understand that he believed any apology to be in his power; and steadfastly was she persuaded, that he could have no explanation to give, which a just sense of shame wouldn't conceal. With a strong prejudice against everything he might say, she began his account of what had happened at Netherfield. She read with an eagerness which hardly left her power of comprehension, and from impatience of knowing what the next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the sense of the one before her eyes. His belief of her sister's insensibility she instantly resolved to be false; and his account of the real, the worst objections to the match, made her too angry to have any wish of doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done which satisfied her; his style wasn't penitent, but haughty. It was all pride and insolence.

But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Skylar when she read with somewhat clearer attention a relation of events which, if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth, and which bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself her feelings were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition. Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, "This must be false! This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!" and when she had gone through the whole letter, though scarcely knowing anything of the last page or two, put it hastily away, protesting that she wouldn't regard it, that she would never look in it again.

In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on nothing, she walked to her room; but it wouldn't do; in half a minute the letter was unfolded again, and collecting herself as well as she could, she again began the mortifying perusal of all that related to Skylar, and commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning of every sentence. The account of his connection with the Pemberley family was exactly what he had related himself; and the kindness of the late Mr. Cooper, though she had not before known its extent, agreed equally well with his own words. So far each recital confirmed the other; but when she came to the will, the difference was great. What Skylar had said of the living was fresh in her memory, and as she recalled his very words, it was impossible not to feel that there was gross duplicity on one side or the other; and, for a few moments, she flattered herself that her wishes didn't err. But when she read and re-read with the closest attention, the particulars immediately following of Skylar's resigning all pretensions to the living, of his receiving in lieu so considerable a sum as three thousand pounds, again was she forced to hesitate. She put down the letter, weighed every circumstance with what she meant to be impartiality deliberated on the probability of each statement but with little success. On both sides it was only assertion. Again she read on; but every line proved more clearly that the affair, which she had believed it impossible that any contrivance could so represent as to render Chad's conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a turn which must make him entirely blameless throughout the whole.

The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not to lay at Skylar's charge, exceedingly shocked her; the more so, as she could bring no proof of its injustice. She had never heard of him before his entrance into the shire Militia, in which he had engaged at the persuasion of the young man who, on meeting him accidentally in town, had there renewed a slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life nothing had been known in Hertfordshire but what he told himself. As to his real character, had information been in her power, she had never felt a wish of inquiring. His countenance, voice, and manner had established him at once in the possession of every virtue. She tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the attacks of Chad; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors under which she would endeavor to class what Chad had described as the idleness and vice of many years' continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see him instantly before her, in every charm of air and address; but she could remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of the neighborhood, and the regard which his social powers had gained him in the mess. After pausing on this point a considerable while, she once more continued to read. But, alas! the story which followed, of his designs on Miss Cooper, received some confirmation from what had passed between Colonel Chaz and herself only the morning before; and at last she was referred for the truth of every particular to Colonel Chaz himself from whom she had previously received the information of his near concern in all his cousin's affairs, and whose character she had no reason to question. At one time she had almost resolved on applying to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness of the application, and at length wholly banished by the conviction that Chad would never have hazarded such a proposal, if he had not been well assured of his cousin's corroboration.

She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in conversation between Skylar and herself, in their first evening at Mr. Phillips's. Many of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. She was now struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and wondered it had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of putting himself forward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions with his conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear of seeing Chad that Chad might leave the country, but that he should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the Netherfield ball the very next week. She remembered also that, till the Netherfield family had quitted the country, he had told his story to no one but herself; but that after their removal it had been everywhere discussed; that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Chad's character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would always prevent his exposing the son.

How differently did everything now appear in which he was concerned! His behavior to herself could now have had no tolerable motive; he had either been deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying his vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she had most incautiously shown. Every lingering struggle in his favor grew fainter and fainter; and in farther justification of Chad, she couldn't but allow that Nico, when questioned by Tawni, had long ago asserted his blamelessness in the affair; that proud and repulsive as were his manners, she had never, in the whole course of their acquaintance, an acquaintance which had latterly brought them much together, and given her a sort of intimacy with his ways seen anything that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust anything that spoke him of irreligious or immoral habits; that among his own connections he was esteemed and valued that even Skylar had allowed him merit as a brother, and that she had often heard him speak so affectionately of his sister as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling; that had his actions been what Skylar represented them, so gross a violation of everything right could hardly have been concealed from the world; and that friendship between a person capable of it, and such an amiable man as Nico, was incomprehensible.

She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Chad nor Skylar could she think without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd.

"How despicably I have acted!" she cried; "I, who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have often disdained the generous candor of my sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blamable mistrust! How humiliating is this discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I couldn't have been more wretchedly blind! But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself."

From herself to Tawni, from Tawni to Harris, her thoughts were in a line which soon brought to her recollection that Chad's explanation there had appeared very insufficient, and she read it again. Widely different was the effect of a second perusal. How could she deny that credit to his assertions in one instance, which she had been obliged to give in the other? He declared himself to be totally unsuspicious of her sister's attachment; and she couldn't help remembering what Mel's opinion had always been. Neither could she deny the justice of his description of Tawni. She felt that Tawni's feelings, though fervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant complacency in her air and manner not often united with great sensibility.

After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to every variety of thought re-considering events, determining probabilities, and reconciling herself, as well as she could, to a change so sudden and so important, fatigue, made her fall asleep.

**

* * *

At first I thought that Zora should be Chad's sister you know for her age, but in the end I decided it she would be a Bennet, and instead Chastity should be Chad's sister.**

**Right now I'm listening** **"La Rosa de los Vientos" by "Mago de Oz" which means "The Wind Flower" by "Wizard of Oz" is a Spanish group, I love this song has great lyrics something like this:**

**"If you sow an illusion and irrigate it with your love, and water from the constancy, a flower will bloom in you, and its aroma and heat, clothe you when something goes wrong. If you sow an ideal, in the land of maybe, and comply it with envy, will be difficult tear away the evil of your soul if already has root. And my light will be with you, because life is a garden, where good and evil becomes confused, Is so human not always know how to choose. And if you feel lost and afraid, with your eyes couldn't see, do it with your soul's, to find peace and calm your Wind Flower I'll be. If you sow a friendship, do it lovingly, fertilize it with patience, prune it with the truth, and transplant it with faith because it needs time to grow. If you're drunk from the passion and if you don't freeze your heart your senses will stutter and maybe... You will talk with warmth and not with logic it****'****s wise to count to ten" T****hen repeats the chorus and the song ends**

**Anyway, I stop my rambling.**

**Next Chapter ****I think is ****"****Coming home****" not sure**


	12. Coming Home

**Disclaimer: I don't own SWAC or "Pride and Prejudice"**

* * *

**PRIDE AND PREJUDICE**

**Chapter 12 **

The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning, and Grady having been in waiting near the lodges, to make them his parting obeisance, was able to bring home the pleasing intelligence, of their appearing in very good health, and in as tolerable spirits as could be expected, after the melancholy scene so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings he then hastened, to console Lady Claire and her daughter; and on his return brought back, with great satisfaction, a message from her ladyship, importing that she felt herself so dull as to make her very desirous of having them all to dine with her.

Sonny couldn't see Lady Claire without recollecting that, had she chosen it, she might by this time have been presented to her as her future niece; nor could she think, without a smile, of what her ladyship's indignation would've been. "What would she have said? How would she have behaved?" were questions with which she amused herself.

Their first subject was the diminution of the Rosings party. "I assure you, I feel it exceedingly," said Lady Claire; "I believe no one feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But I am particularly attached to these young men, and know them to be so much attached to me! They were excessively sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear Chaz rallied his spirits tolerably till just at last; but Chad seemed to feel it most acutely, more, I think, than last year. His attachment to Rosings certainly increases."

Grady had a compliment, and an allusion to throw in here, which were kindly smiled on by the mother and daughter. Lady Claire observed, after dinner, that Sonny seemed out of spirits, and immediately accounting for it by herself, by supposing that she didn't like to go home again so soon, she added:

"But if that is the case, you must write to your mother and beg that you may stay a little longer. Mrs. Mitchell will be very glad of your company, I am sure."

"I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind invitation," replied Sonny, "but it isn't in my power to accept it. I must be in town next Saturday."

"Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I expected you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Mitchell so before you came. There can be no occasion for your going so soon. Mrs. Bennet could certainly spare you for another fortnight."

"But my father can't. He wrote last week to hurry my return."

"Oh! your father of course may spare you, if your mother can. Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And if you will stay another month complete, it will be in my power to take one of you as far as London, for I am going there early in June, for a week; and as Dawson doesn't object to the barouche box, there will be very good room for one of you and indeed, if the weather should happen to be cool, I shouldn't object to taking you both, as you are neither of you large."

"You are all kindness, madam; but I believe we must abide by our original plan." Lady Claire seemed resigned. "Mrs. Mitchell, you must send a servant with them. You know I always speak my mind, and I can't bear the idea of a young women travelling post by herself. It is highly improper. You must contrive to send somebody. I've the greatest dislike in the world to that sort of thing. Young women should always be properly guarded and attended, according to their situation in life. When my niece Chastity Ann went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her having two servants go with her. Miss Cooper, the daughter of Mr. Cooper of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could not have appeared with propriety in a different manner. I am excessively attentive to all those things. You must send John with the young lady, Mrs. Mitchell. I am glad it occurred to me to mention it; for it would really be discreditable to you to let her go alone."

"My uncle is to send a servant for me"

"Oh! Your uncle! He keeps a man-servant, does he? I'm very glad you have somebody who thinks of these things. Where shall you change horses?

Oh! Bromley, of course. If you mention my name at the Bell, you will be attended to."

Lady Claire had many other questions to ask respecting her journey, and as she didn't answer them all herself, attention was necessary, which Sonny believed to be lucky for her; or, with a mind so occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection must be reserved for solitary hours; whenever she was alone, she gave way to it as the greatest relief; and not a day went by without a solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of unpleasant recollections.

Chad's letter she was in a fair way of soon knowing by heart. She studied every sentence; and her feelings towards its writer were at times widely different. When she remembered the style of his address, she was still full of indignation; but when she considered how unjustly she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against herself; and his disappointed feelings became the object of compassion. His attachment excited gratitude, his general character respect; but she couldn't approve him; nor could she for a moment repent her refusal, or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again. In her own past behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation and regret; and in the unhappy defects of her family, a subject of yet heavier chagrin. They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, contented with laughing at them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters; and her mother, with manners so far from right herself, was entirely insensible of the evil. Sonny had frequently united with Tawni in an endeavour to check the imprudence of Lucy and Portlyn; but while they were supported by their mother's indulgence, what chance could there be of improvement? Lucy, weak-spirited, irritable, and completely under Portlyn's guidance, had been always affronted by their advice; and Portlyn, self-willed and careless, would scarcely give them a hearing. They were ignorant, idle, and vain. While there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt with him; and while Meryton was within a walk of Longbourn, they would be going there forever.

Anxiety on Tawni's behalf was another prevailing concern; and Chad's explanation, by restoring Nico to all her former good opinion, heightened the sense of what Tawni had lost. His affection was proved to have been sincere, and his conduct cleared of all blame, unless any could attach to the implicitness of his confidence in his friend. How grievous then was the thought that, of a situation so desirable in every respect, so replete with advantage, so promising for happiness, Tawni had been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family!

When to these recollections was added the development of Skyler's character, it may be easily believed that the happy spirits which had seldom been depressed before, were now so much affected as to make it almost impossible for her to appear tolerably cheerful.

When she parted, Lady Claire, with great condescension, wished her a good journey, and invited her to come to Hunsford again next year; and Miss de Bourgh exerted herself so far as to curtsey and hold out her hand to her.

* * *

Her journey was performed without any alarm; and within few hours of her leaving Hunsford she reached Loungbourn.

"Sonny. How fortunate you have arrived. Your aunt and uncle are here to deliver Tawni from London." Mrs. Bennet said

"How is Tawni?" Sonny asked

"She's in the drawing room." She replied

Sonny went to the drawing room and sat next to Tawni. She looked well, and Sonny had little opportunity of studying her spirits. She was observing her behaviour when Tawni said

"I'm quite over him. If he passed me in the street, I'd hardly notice." She added; "London is so diverting. It's true. There's so much to entertain. What news from Kent?."

"Nothing" Sonny said "At least not much to entertain." she added

"Sonny, tell Mama!" Lucy cried while entering the room with Portlyn

"Stop making such a fuss."Portlyn said

"Why didn't she ask me as well?."Lucy asked

"Because I'm better company." replied Portlyn

"I've just as much right." Lucy said on the verge of tears

"What's the matter?."Sonny asked a little confused

"Portlyn's been invited to Brighton with the Forsters." Tawni replied

"Let's all go. sea bathing would set me up nicely." Portlyn said excited; "I shall dine with the officers every night." she added

And with this Sonny got up and headed to her father's library

"Papa, don't let her go." Sonny said

"Portlyn will never be easy until she's exposed herself in some public place. And we could never expect her to do it with so little inconvenience." Mr Bennet replied

"If you don't check her, she'll be fixed as the silliest flirt who ever made her family ridiculous. And Lucy will follow her, as always." she said

"Sonny, we shall have no peace until she goes."

"Is that really all you care about?." she said incredulously

"Colonel Forster is a sensible man. He'll keep her out of any real mischief." he added "And she's too poor to be an object of prey to anyone."

"It's dangerous." Sonny said quietly

"I'm certain the officers will find women better worth their while. Let us hope, in fact, that her stay in Brighton will teach her her own insignificance. At any rate, she can hardly grow any worse." He said; "If she does, we'd be obliged to lock her up for the rest of her life." Mr. Bennet added

* * *

**Sorry the lack of updates... ****My job was a little crazy I'd many things overdue...**

**BTW It's My Birthday cheers with tequila! LoL and this Saturday is Sterling's Birthday too =) oh and if you heard the rumor that he's in a relationship with Stephanie Crews please don't bully her we don't even know if it's true so stop the hate... And if is true just be happy for him =) **

**Next Chapter this Friday**


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